Indivisible
by JadeOokami
Summary: Being a savior twice over isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when both sides of the world are relying on you to win two different wars.  Exorcist!Harry
1. Prologue

A/N: Haha, yeah. I'm still alive. Kind of. There's been some bad stuff happening, which is why the hiatus lasted longer than I had thought it would. I guess you could say that the Hiatus is now over, but because of that bad stuff, I probably won't be writing too much.

This isn't exactly... even. It jumps around a whole lot – in fact, it's made up of many tiny little scenes. It's not suppose to be totally amazing or anything. Just suppose to help me get over the DGMxHP obsession thing. I guess it's HP AU. And it does center more around Harry instead of the DGM cast. It's just for fun – no updating schedule or plans to finish. I'll probably do one more chapter, but that may be all. Don't know, guess we'll have to see.

Anyways, please excuse the mistakes. It's unbeta'ed, and I'm back to using a slightly faulty keyboard with a very tough space bar. Also, for Harry's Innocence, I just kind of made something up for him, since I couldn't use the same idea I did in TAFD. And yeah. It does kind of ignore the time issue. Sorry ^^;

* * *

When Harry is six, Mrs. Figg watches him. He thinks she smells a little funny and she always watches him like she expects him to do a trick, but Harry doesn't mind if it means he gets a break from the Dursley's for a while. He gets a lot more freedom during those times – she always has candy to give him and some great story full of magic to tell him. Sometimes the cats won't leave him alone and they make him sneeze, but if it gets to be too much, he can always go out front and read.

Mrs. Figg always has books, and she doesn't even mind when he reads them.

Sometimes he goes treasure hunting. She has a lot of old stuff, and he likes to pretend that under the next box or in the other drawer will be some shiny valuable that no one had discovered before. She catches on after a while and starts to hide rewards for him to find. Once, it was the largest cookie he'd ever seen, and he'd had to hide it from the Dursley's because he couldn't eat it all at once. His favorite was when he'd had found a small book with his name on it under the couch, and she'd even let him keep it! He hid it under his cot in the cupboard and liked to take it out late at night, reading by flashlight.

But one day, he finds a pair of large gloves in one of the boxes in the hallway. He'd never ventured into them before because he didn't want to be punished for being _too_ nosy, but this time she'd given him the a-okay. The box isn't labeled and there are a lot of strange little things inside. The gloves catch his eye because they have no fingers and they remind him of that cool style he sees on TV sometimes when Dudley watches his Saturday morning cartoons.

They're black and way too big for him, and he thinks that it looks as big as his entire arm and then some. There's a green band around the end and around the fingers, and a small green diamond on the back of the hands. He tries them on, just because he likes how they look and he thinks he can roll the excess up.

When they suddenly shrink until they fit him snugly, no one is more surprised than he is.

His first instinct is shock, and then both alarm and fascination war for his attention. He takes them to Mrs. Figg and tells her what had happened, worrying that she won't believe him because the Dursley's never did either. She gets a similarly alarmed look in her eyes, but instead of chastening him for lying, she looks them over and tells him she'd never seen them before. She asks if she can look at them closer, and he's obviously disappointed. They'd felt so comfortable and looked so cool. He didn't want to take them off yet.

She insists, and tries to soften to blow by saying that maybe he can play with them later. So he takes them off and when he's off drawing in the dirt and pouting just a little, he watches through the window as she takes them into another room.

When she returns, her face is a little confused, but she gives them back with a small smile, and he happily puts them on again.

The Dursley's don't return for him until it's getting late. Dudley's asleep and Petunia's more snappy than usual. He shrinks away a little when Vernon scolds him for taking too long to get to the door. Mrs. Figg bids him farewell and tells him in his ear that he can keep the gloves. He glows a little all the way home, even if he's not sure why he likes them so much.

0

He wears the gloves as much as he can, even if it's under his shirt or jacket. They're comfortable and they make him feel cool, even if Dudley doesn't think so. He wears them so much that it feels strange without them. They're also warm, and since they cover him from his upper to mid-upper arm, he doesn't even need a long sleeved shirt.

At school, Dudley corners him, flanked by his fellow bullies, and Harry wishes he weren't there. Dudley wants his gloves – he says that Harry is too lame and too stupid to have them. There's a scuffle then, as they fight to either take, or keep a hold of them. Harry knows he can't keep them; just like everything else that he gets a hold of that Dudley likes, it will either be taken, or broken. So when he's being held down by the bigger guys and Dudley's trying to get his large fingers under the stiff cloth, he starts to cry.

For some reason, his cousin can't get the gloves off. They won't come off. Harry feels like it's tight around his skin, like it has grown around his arms and will not come off, and it even kind of hurts the more his cousin tries to take it forcibly. Something in him starts to panic.

Then there's a flash of light and Harry looses track of things for a while. When he comes to, his gloves are glowing faintly and there's a hole in the school wall. The bullies are laid out in various areas around him.

No matter how much the teachers ask him, he doesn't know about how the hole happened, or how Dudley's arm had been broken, his fingers on the hand that had been touching him bent in strange directions. The Dursley's blame him, of course. They think he's a freak, they tell him so all the time.

But now when they look at him, there's a hint of fear, of frightened expectations. Dudley doesn't try to take his gloves again. In fact, he doesn't try to take anything anymore. He leaves the room when Harry enters, and he sticks to calling names from a distance. It takes his arm a long time to heal.

0

Harry has just turned seven when they receive a strange visitor. His hair looks like it's almost purple in the light, and he's young. He has a small, quiet smile that makes Harry feel like they're sharing a privet joke. He asks if he's Harry Potter, and of course Harry has learned not to lie. So he answers positively, and the stranger kneels down on one knee and holds out a hand.

The others name is Komui Lee, and he asks Harry about his gloves. Harry grows a little defensive, and is saved from answering when Vernon lumbers into the hallway, asking roughly who's at the door.

Harry can be observative when he wanted to be. He wasn't stupid, no matter what the Dursley's said about him, and even a stupid kid wouldn't be able to miss the way Komui stood back up slowly, how his eyes frosted over a bit just before the light glared off his glasses. He doesn't hold out his hand, and his introduction is short and to the point. He says he wants to talk to the Dursley's about Harry, and wouldn't it be better not to have that discussion on the street?

Vernon almost growls. Raises his voice. Says that he can't be fooled, even if the stranger has a decent enough sense to be able to look 'normal', that 'his kind' wasn't welcome there. It draws Petunia to come out, and she tries to calm her husband even as her hands shake just a little.

In the end, they do invite Komui inside, but only to avoid drawing any more attention from their neighbors.

0

Komui says that Harry might have 'potential'. Harry wasn't sure what, exactly, he might have potential for, but it's the first time anybody has complimented him so he's content enough. He's told that if he does, if he passes a test, he won't have to go back to the Dursley's anymore.

He doesn't think he's particularly smart, even if he's not stupid, but he really hopes he can pass the test.

0

Hevlaska is the strangest thing Harry had ever seen. She is gentle with him the whole time, and that is what chases away all his fears. Komui reassures him that she means no harm and that she's trustworthy, and Harry really likes Komui, so he trusts Hevlaska too.

He doesn't know what she does, but she counts off percentages, something he'd just started learning a little about in school, and tells Harry in her strange, breathy, halting voice that she is sorry. He reassures her that she hasn't done anything wrong, and that it didn't hurt when she did whatever it was she did. She only give him a small, sad smile and sets him back on his feet.

Komui puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him a long story about exorcists and a war nobody knows about.

0

Komui is young and he's only just become the supervisor of the Black Order main branch, and he's already grown to hate it. He hates the war, and he hates the akuma, and he hates the Innocence. But he leads the people for his sister, and as he watches the newest recruit, he thinks that he's doing it for the exorcists too.

Harry is a quick learner. He's a little foolhardy and a little too quick to rush into things, but he had a brave streak that Komui knew his teacher was trying to encourage in her own way. Then again, not many seven year old boys could look almost straight up into the face of a giant monkey that was probably three or four times as big as they are if they aren't brave.

Central likes child exorcists. They like them because children were easier to train, easier to mold.

And easier to break.

But Komui is here now, and he won't allow breaking anymore, and when he isn't looking after his sister, he's checking over Harry Potter to see his progress. Harry cries a little, at first, because sometimes he isn't allowed to go to bed or eat until he's done something right, and because sometimes he's pushed further than a child should. Komui knows that Cloud Nyne doesn't like doing it, but she would rather see that her apprentice hates her and lives than to die because she didn't train him hard enough. She's good at turning a deaf ear, and her tone was often sharp, but she watches his diet and his studies, both of which was really more optional than anything.

Generals who take on students are really only required to teach the student how to use their Innocence, help them out, take care of them on missions if possible, and that was it. She was strict about his training and his studies.

He learns not to cry quickly, and after a little while, he starts to smile more. Lau Min even takes a liking to Harry, and often the two could be seen together, which often meant Cloud Nyne wasn't far away. Komui quietly hopes that what he's doing is enough.

0

Harry wasn't afraid. The monkey intimidated him, at first, and so did it's owner, but she never called him stupid. She pushed him hard. He used to cry at first, when he was so tired and so sore. It was out of frustration, and he began to wonder if maybe the Dursley's were better after all. But Cloud Nyne could smile at him too, and even if she was really stern, she seemed to care about him. Sometimes, she could even find a fun way to do his studies.

He starts to open up a little. He looks around for what seems like the first time. He finds that he likes it there. Komui is kind and he always checks up on Harry. Some of the scientists like to ruffle his hair and smile when they see each other. Besides his teacher and Komui, Harry's favorite is Jerry. The cook makes him anything he wants and he always keeps a little snack ready for him.

Sometimes the cooing is a little much, but Harry takes it in good stride.

0

Harry is going to visit Komui when he sees the stranger. They're old, older than he'd ever seen, with a beard as long as Harry was tall. Their clothes are loose and they sparkle like stars have been sown into the fabric. Their eyes sparkle in a similar way, and later on in life Harry would recognize the look of a man who was staring at someone he knew he would have to use until there was nothing left, except this man did it with a bit less sorrow than Komui did.

He asks if Harry liked it there, and Harry talks about how even though it's hard, he does like it. The stranger's name is Dumbledore, and he mentions that he use to know Harry's parents, and Harry just tilts his head in quiet curiosity. He was bubbling with it – of course he wanted to know about his parents. He wanted to know about what they were like, what they did for a living, if they looked like him. But he doesn't ask.

Dumbledore smiles a little and pats his head, and it feels a lot less warm than when the scientists do it.

0

Harry isn't the only exorcist in the Order. He knows it, but he's usually kept so busy with training and studies that he doesn't have much free time. At meal times, he sometimes sees older exorcists and wants to talk to them, but they usually have silent, solemn expressions and he feels too small, too young. So he doesn't talk to them, and they avoid him. The Finders treat him even worse because they either hate him, envy him, or pity him. There are a couple who awkwardly nod a hello or will talk to him if he talks to them first, but there's such a big gap between the Finder and the Exorcists that it feels too big for someone like him to cross.

But there is one other exorcist in the Order who is young like him. He sees her for the first time when she's leaving the infirmary when he goes to get his sprained wrist check out. She sees him, then hides behind her hair and hurries away. Her eyes, dying and wary and so lonely, sticks with him.

He sees her again from afar a while later. She's smiling brightly, like her whole world was in it, and then she laughs as Komui tickles her. He's blindsided by the difference.

He sees her again one day in the cafeteria. She looks so small – it was as if she wasn't being held down by anything but her clothes. Her wrists and ankles are too tiny, he's not sure how they can function, and her eyes too big for her face. Her hair is the longest he'd seen, and she hides behind it when she sits down with her tray. A couple Finders slide away just a little.

She looks small and pitiful and lonely, so he gets up and goes to her. The sound of his tray startles her, and she looks at him like she was about to flee any second.

"Hello," He says as he sits down, and she only stares at him. He's use to this by now, so it doesn't bother him. "My name's Harry. What's yours?"

She doesn't answer. She twiddles her fork like she doesn't know what to do with it.

"I've never had that before," He mentions as he looks at her food, "What is it?"

She still isn't saying anything. He wonders if maybe he was bothering her and wilts a little. Then she sees something over his shoulder and says, in a voice as small as her frame, "Tempura."

He glances over his shoulder to see Komui at the other end of the room, watching them with eyes too big.

"I've never heard of that," He looks back, "Is it good?"

She nods hesitantly, haltingly. It goes quiet for a minute as he struggles for something to say. After a moment, he settles with, "Jerry can make anything, can't he? He cooks way better than anybody."

He starts to ramble a little, and he thinks that even she notices that he's a little nervous. Eventually, he has no more food and no more idle chatter, so he excuses himself.

"Lenalee," She blurts out just as he stands up. He blinks in confusion. "My name. It's Lenalee."

0

Dumbledore visits again not long after the first time. Harry catches him just as the other is leaving, and he has a hard glint to his eyes. He only nods in Harry's direction before he's gone.

Inside the office, Komui is on his feet, his hands still on the desk like he'd had an outburst and hadn't moved. His face was frustrated, but he took a few deep breaths before sitting down and asking what Harry needed.

0

"What's your favorite color?" He asks her.

"My favorite color?" Lenalee repeats, not as unstable, not as fragile, "Why?"

"My teacher says that it's good to be friends with someone you have lots of things in common."

"Friends?" She repeats him again, startled, and he looks at her with a frown.

"Aren't we?" He asks.

"Um..." She hesitates a little before giving him her first smile, "Green."

"Me too!"

0

He knows something is wrong the moment the red light hits him. He feels his body go flat as a board and he can't move at all. There are two men in black robes, hoods drawn up, and he struggles to demand how they'd gotten into the Headquarters. One of them looks at him with a deep frown, the other shakes his head.

"Figures... Anyone would try to brainwash th' Harry Potter to do what they wan'," The bigger one says.

"I'm sure Dumbledore knows what's best for the kid," The other said as he picks Harry up.

Harry isn't sure what happens next – one moment he's in one of the training rooms, the next minute he's experiencing the strangest of pulls. It starts in his bellybutton, and it feels like he's being squeezed through a tube too small for him. It's almost painful, definitely uncomfortable, and when it disappears, they're in a dark street in an unfamiliar place.

He feels his mind kicking into high gear. He thinks that if he tries hard enough, he could move, but he waits. He has to wait. He doesn't know where he is or what's going on.

He doesn't know how long he waits, but he doesn't think it's too long. He sees the shadow first, hears the click of the guns second. He hears the explosion of bullets, feels the man holding him fall. The other one curses, and Harry is vaguely aware of the coat of dust he acquires when the man under him dies from the poison. He pushes, hard, but he can't move. So he reaches, mentally, for his Innocence. It jumps alive immediately, and then he can move.

The other man looks at him like he's grown another head, but Harry's too occupied by his fear. It was the first time he'd seen an Akuma in real life.

In the end, instead of fighting it, the man grabs him and then they're gone again. He feels sick when they appear someplace else, and his Innocence has deactivated. A hand lands on his shoulder and he looks up to see Komui. They'd gone back to the Order.

0

The man remaining was not let go, but Harry didn't know what happened to him. He was simply glad to be Home. Komui had immediately dropped to his knees and asked how he was. He couldn't explain how happy he was to see the other, even if he'd only been taken from the Order for maybe ten minutes. He could tell that as concerned as Komui was, he was also angry, and he was glad that it wasn't at him.

0

"Akuma are drawn to Innocence!" Harry hears Komui snarl as he eavesdrops outside his door along with Lenalee, "He hasn't learned how to be able to be ready against them, to tell them apart! You think you can keep him safe from everyone?"

"Then take the Innocence," Dumbledore replies with a deadly calm.

"No," Komui says in a similar tone.

There is a tense silence that they can feel even through the door.

"We seem to have reached a stalemate," Dumbledore mused, "We will have to reach a compromise."

"What kind of compromise?" Komui snapped, "I'm not obligated to make any kind of a deal with you. Harry is needed _here_, now. I don't care what kind of role you believe he has – your enemy is dead, and ours is not."

"He is dead in body, perhaps," Harry knotted his eyebrows together in confusion, "But you should know that the soul is not always so easily taken care of."

"Maybe so," Komui sounded as if he was gathering himself again, "But Harry is part of this Order, and there isn't much you can do about that anymore."

"Don't you think the boy has a right to decide himself?"

"If Central believed exorcists had a right to decide, then many of them would not be exorcists."

From down the hall came Reever, carrying a box under one arm. Harry tugged Lenalee's sleeve, and they both strove to look innocent.

0

Every new exorcist is a big thing in the Order. Harry hears about the new exorcist and wonders what they're like. He doesn't think he'll be able to find out for a while until Lenalee finds him, eyes wide in excitement, and pulls him by the hand to Komui's office.

The new exorcist is a boy who doesn't look that much older than himself, with strong shoulders and tough hands. The boy takes one look at them and then turns his nose up and away. Lenalee isn't perturbed, but Harry wonders.

His name is Kanda. Kanda Yu. Or, in English, Yu Kanda. Harry thinks it's strange to call someone Yu, so he's not very concerned when Kanda tells him plainly not to. Lenalee is shy and Kanda is obviously uncomfortable around her, and Harry thinks that the other seemed tough. Tough, and maybe mean.

0

Lenalee is already there when he arrives. She's on the balcony, looking down at the large room that was filled with coffins and people crying over them. She's crying too – but she's silent, and you wouldn't be able to tell if not for the streaks of tears.

When he sees, he's blown away. They fill the room with their cries and their yells. The caskets are silent. Each one is emblazoned with a cross. Most of the people who are crying are also wounded, and there are a couple nurses going around the room, checking up on them.

He almost wants to cry too, but thinks that he needs to be the strong one. He sees Kanda down below, making his way out of the crowd, away from the nurse who had been trying to change his bandages.

"Do you think that will be us, one day?" Lenalee asks, and he almost doesn't hear her.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

"In the caskets," She clarifies as if he didn't already understand.

"I... don't know," He grips the railing, sees Komui talking to somebody, "Not if we work hard enough."

0

Harry sees his first battle, and almost dies.

The Finder is nice. He talks to Harry and smiles a lot; he could see it in the Finders eyes. He has a partner – another exorcist, one that's three times older than him and just as experienced.

He's nervous the whole time. He remembers seeing the other akuma, remembers the feel of the ash on his hands after that man had died. He's not sure if he can remember all the things his teacher had thus far taught him.

He does remember, but it's not quite enough. The Finder dies first. He dies yelling, telling Harry to run, that there was too many. Harry didn't want to run, didn't want to leave anyone behind. But the Finder tells him that one exorcist is worth a thousand Finders, and that exorcists are the _only_ ones who can defeat akuma's.

And then he dies.

The other exorcist dies like the hero Harry imagines when he thinks about a fairytale with a sad ending. He kills all the other akuma with his last attack, but also himself. His synchronization rate hadn't been very high in the first place, and he had overtaxed himself by far.

There is another funeral, and this time Harry isn't on the balcony, he's on the floor looking down at the caskets of the two people who had died on his mission, and surrounded by several more that had died on others. Kanda is there too, but only briefly.

"Hey, Kanda?" He asks softly, and the other pauses from leaving. "Why are you an exorcist?"

"Why do you think?" There is no sarcasm in Kanda's tone, but it is flat.

"Is it just because the Innocence chose you?" Harry wondered, "Do you have your own reasons at all?"

"It's none of your business," The other says simply, and Harry knows that's true.

"I thought that being an exorcist would be... fun. That it would be 'cool', because not many people could do it. Because I was 'special'," He touched the Finders coffin lightly, sadly.

"Being 'special'," Kanda replied lowly, glancing over at him, "Isn't 'fun'."

0

Lavi's smile is fake, and Harry doesn't like it.

He's learned to tell the difference because he can do it too. He doesn't like how Lavi smiles at everyone, and how he never means it. Sometimes Harry wonders what must have happened to make Lavi dislike _people_ so much. One day, he asks.

"What makes you think I don't like people?" Lavi blinks, confused, startled. Faking. "I like people."

"Because you lie all the time," Harry crosses his arms, and he's a little surprised when Kanda looks up and actually takes an interest in the conversation.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Lavi puts a hand to his chest and cries, "Yu! Harry's calling me a liar!"

"You _are_ a liar," Kanda replies simply.

"How can you tell?" The redhead is suddenly solemnly curious, his one eye glittering intelligently.

Harry shrugs. He doesn't want to tell. He wants to be able to tell when the other is faking and when he's not, if he ever isn't.

"Why do you bother?" Kanda asks, surprising them both.

"Why not?" Lavi shrugs back, "People never learn. And it's easier when they like me anyway."

"That's a sad way to think," Harry uncrosses his arms, and Lavi just shrugs again.

0

"What?" Harry snapped just seconds before Lau Min's fist slammed across his face. He went sprawling instantly, and he was distantly glad that his teacher didn't go full out on him, or else he probably would have slammed through the pillar and the wall behind it, instead of just leaving spider cracks on the pillar.

"I was just saying," Komui rose his hands in defense, "You're getting older, Harry, and I feel the need to make that clear."

"She's just a... just a friend!" He sputtered as he sat up, blushing.

"You say that now," Komui shook his head, "but in another few years I'm going to have to beat them off with a stick. I just figure that it's good to have this talk now, while you're still young."

"I don't _need_ this talk, ever!"

"Can't you find a better time for this?" Cloud Nyne demanded from the other side of the room, "You're interrupting his training, Komui."

Lau Min cracked its knuckles at the supervisor, who chuckled a little nervously and slowly backed out of the room.

0

Cloud Nyne watched as Harry ducked with a wide-eyed concentration. His moves were still rough, but he was learning. Slowly, but surely, he was learning.

Yes. He was coming along rather nicely.


	2. Introduction

A/N: Look! Another one! Whaddya know.

I had figured that if I continued, I'd do one Year per chapter, but in the end decided that, considering how long it is where this chapter ends, it won't work out that way. Unfortunately for me, I can kind of see a vague plot too.

And a note: I have nothing against Ron. And I kind of like Draco. But admittedly, I don't think Harry, as he is now, would get along with Draco (As _he_ is now), and I don't think that he'd become friends with Ron either. Originally, Harry was a boy who kind of clung to the first friendly boy he met, and he wanted to impress Ron, and make friends, and well, he hadn't had many friends before anyway. But now he doesn't need to impress, in fact kind of wants to avoid it, and is more mature. He's still a kid, but often times, he doesn't think like one. For the future, I can't say about how they'll be. But who would like to see friendship between Harry and Draco?

And I almost made him Slytherin. I really wanted to. But oh well.

* * *

One day, Reever notices a barn out sitting outside the large door to the Order. It sticks around for a strangely long time, but in the end, he forgets and moves on with his day.

0

Harry is walking by the Science department, Kanda in tow, when he hears a lot of noise coming from inside. He looks at his companion, who shrugs and rolls his eyes and moves to continue their path to lunch – they had just finished a rather tough sparring session, watched over by Kanda's new master, General Tiedoll.

Kanda doesn't like Tiedoll, but Harry does, even though he likes his own teacher a lot more.

He doesn't bother telling Kanda that he's going to check out what's going on inside, or asking the other to come with him. They meet up a part all the time, sometimes without saying a word.

Inside, the scientists are in a flutter, paperwork everywhere and running all over the place. They look as if they had either just made a crucial discovery, or something had gone rather wrong. He asks one of them when they move around him, and Tapp tells him.

"Couple'a _owls_ got inside, nobody knows how," Harry blinks in surprise, "Now, we're tryin' to get them to leave, but they don't really seem to want to. They're causing a mess everywhere they go!"

Someone yells an 'ah-ha!' and Tapp runs off. Harry quickly finds that he's about to get trampled and decides he should leave the strange owl capture to the adults.

0

He's at lunch, sitting with both Kanda and Lenalee because Lenalee almost always sits with him and he likes to make a point of sitting with Kanda at least every once in a while. There isn't much conversation – mostly it's just Lenalee, who now talks much more with a gentle smile to match her soft tone. Harry likes listening to her talk even when he doesn't have much to say, and he's growing suspicious that Kanda does too.

There's a yell from the hallway, and a couple people look, him included. A Finder that had been exiting the cafeteria looks down one way and jumps back, eyes a little wide in surprise and confusion.

When a small flock of owls come flying into the room, there's some general confusion. The owls are followed by several scientists, all of which look rather ruffled. The owls seem confused too, at first, but then they suddenly turn and dart in one direction at the same time.

Harry's eyes widen when they dive for him. They pull up at the last minute and he's glad because he really doesn't like the violent glint in Kanda's eyes and the hand he's got on his sword.

But then every single one drop something on him, and next thing he knows, he's got identical letters addressed to him in his lap, his head, and his food. Moments after that, the owls return and land on his shoulders and the table in front of him. One even lands in his hair, knocking aside the letter that had landed there.

There is a brief silence, and then Lenalee is giggling herself silly, trying to be modest and failing.

"You look ridiculous," Kanda comments as he snaps his chopsticks at an owl that had come too close.

0

Komui gives him the choice. It's the first time he's ever been able to decide something big for himself, and in all honesty, he has no idea what to do with himself.

He'd gotten some brief details about Dumbledore years ago, and thus a little bit about so-called 'magic', but his life had been too full of the Order for him to care, and so he'd forgotten. Now, Komui is telling him about Hogwarts and what he'd do there, if he goes.

"How come I'm allowed to go?" He wonders, "School means I'd have to be gone for most of the year."

"Central's not happy about it," Komui admits, "Especially because they aren't on good terms with the magical community. But they can't deny that the skills you'd learn there would be pretty invaluable."

"So I'd be able to go, and that's it?" Harry's eyebrows knit together, "Just... go? For that long?"

He thinks that should make him happy, but it doesn't. He doesn't hate being an exorcist, and he doesn't know if he can stand being away from Home for so long. Being 'normal' isn't possible for him. He doesn't like the kind of change that would bring. The thought of being terrified by people at all times – any of them could be, or turn into, an akuma at anytime, he'd have to _always_ be on his guard – almost terrifies him. But if it's useful to the Order...

If it's something only he could do that could make things easier, make him more useful, he might do it anyway.

"There are requirements," Komui warns seriously, "And you might have to miss some school, which will make an already hard deal even harder. If at any time _I_ feel that things aren't working out, or that you're needed, absolutely, here then I will pull you out. If it becomes too much for you, you must say so immediately. Should you decide to go."

"And it could help?"

He hesitates a little, having mixed feelings about it also. "Maybe," He says, "It depends on you, I think."

0

Hagrid is the biggest person that Harry has ever met, even bigger than the scariest person alive – General Sokaro. But he doesn't seem to have a mean bone in his body, and Harry finds that he is kind of liking the other.

Hagrid seems to like him too, and when they go to Diagon Alley together, he's keen on showing it to Harry. He shows him all kinds of things, and even though he sometimes seems a little put off by the fact that Harry is a little reserved with his emotions, he's still very kind and talks enough for the both of them.

Harry loves Diagon Alley. He had thought that, being forced to become mature very early, he had already outgrown a lot of the childish reactions that other children his age, who weren't part of the Order, often had. But all the magic that filled the place fascinated him, and when he thinks about all the things he could learn to do, he becomes a little excited.

They go to the bank, where he sees a goblin for the first time. They seem a little snobbish, but they regard Harry with an appropriate business like attitude, and so he returns the favor. Hagrid seems a little surprised, at first, and then a little embarrassed. He tries to act a little more formal, then, as if to follow Harry's example, and the goblin doesn't seem to know what to make of Harry.

The ride to his vault is memorable, and the insides of his vault makes his jaw drop. After that, they go to another vault, where Hagrid picks up something that seems pretty important. Then they move on.

He loves the bookshop, even though he's not a huge book-enthusiast, because it smells similar to the library at the Order. He looks around, and Hagrid mentions how his mother had been very smart. He thinks about buying something for Lavi, but then Hagrid is herding him to the next shop and promises himself he'd do it next time.

The potions shop makes him feel a little greasy, but after his tutelage with Cloud Nyne, he knew how to follow directions pretty well, and after Hagrid mentions how good his mother had been at potions, he hopes that it will be an easy class. He isn't sure why the other keeps bringing up his parents and then looking at him as if expecting him to do... something, but he decides to ignore the looks and just take in the information.

They visit other shops too. His favorite is the pet shop. The animals there are often fantastical, and he really wants to get Lenalee a cat – there's a small kitten that practically has her name on it. He's sure she'd love it, but he doesn't know if it's a good idea. The Order didn't seem to have a policy on animals, but it's a big castle. And Lenalee was gone on missions a lot...

Hagrid notices him debating and asks if he wants the kitten.

"Not for me," He admits, still staring at the kitten that was staring back intelligently, "I know someone that would like this one a lot, I think."

He sighs, then moves on. He's still debating when they move on to the birds, and then the reptiles.

His ability to talk to snakes was something that rather startled him, but it also kicked up that childish wonder. The fact that the shopkeeper and Hagrid both immediate begin looking at him like he had just done something very, very wrong didn't really bother him. He almost asks for a snake, just so he could have someone he could talk to at the school, but as if the other had been able to predict what he'd been thinking, Hagrid quickly told his the schools policy on animals.

In other words, no snakes.

When they're leaving, Harry stops and then quickly turns back. Hagrid looks very relieved when Harry returns with a small black kitten instead of the snake he'd been looking at. As if to further dissuade him, he gives Harry a snowy white owl just before they part, named Hedwig.

0

"I jus' don't know wha' ta think," Hagrid sits heavily in the chair, rubbing the arm nervously, "Headmaster, he seems like ah good kid, really, but sometimes..."

"Sometimes what, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asks gently, "He is fine, isn't he?"

"I guess so," The half-giant shrugs hopelessly, "I jus' don' know. I mean, there doesn' seem anythin' _wrong_ with 'im! The parsletoungue came as a surpris', but otherwis', he seems like ah good kid. Quiet, bu' good."

Hagrid thinks that there it is, a slight pull, and he knows the Headmaster is looking at what had happened that day through his eyes. Then he leans back and sighs.

"Yes," Albus says, "I think I know what you mean."

"There's jus'... somethin' _off_, Albus, I jus' dun know _what_."

"I believe I may know," He takes off his glasses and cleans them, "But it is not as bad as I had feared it would be."

"You tough' he'd be this way?" Hagrid frowned, "Why is he tha' way, Albus? You're always so secretive 'bout the boy, di' somethin' happen to 'im?"

"Besides what everybody knows?" Albus smiled, but it was a sad smile, "Yes. Yes, I'm afraid so, but I cannot tell you what. Should he confide in you, however, is his affair."

"His muggle fam'ly is take' care of 'im, right?"

"He is where he should be," He paused, shook his head, "Well. He is where he cannot be moved, even should being moved be best for him."

0

Lenalee stares down at the ball of fluff that was being held out to her, and did not squeal. But only through force of will.

She takes the small black kitten and coos when it curls up to her.

"What do you think?" Harry asks, and she doesn't know why he sounds vaguely nervous.

"She's so cute!" Lenalee exclaims.

"How do you know it's a she?" Lavi doesn't look up from the newspaper he's studying; a magical one with moving pictures. Harry had kept it from when Hagrid had taken him to lunch.

"Of course it is," Lenalee replied, "I can just tell."

As it turned out, it was a she.

"Do you think Komui will mind?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," She bit her lip, "If I ask, I'm sure he'll say okay. Are you going to take it with you?"

"Well actually..." He looked away, "I got it for you."

She blinks, looks at the kitten, and decides that her day was just ten times better.

0

"Magic?" Kanda scoffs, "How stupid."

"But it's _real_ magic," Harry insisted, "I _saw_ it."

"Whatever. It's useless to me."

"What if I got you a kit that could clean Mugan _for_ you?" He grins when the other glances up, eyebrows furrowed.

"You can do that?"

0

Kanda refuses to come and Lavi is busy as he usually is, but Lenalee insists on going to the train station with him. Komui is still sore about being forced into letting the kitten stay, and tries to be firm – Lenalee is needed elsewhere on a mission, and he really didn't want Lenalee to come back from London all by herself. She had only just turned eleven, after all.

She begs and wheedles and looks at her big brother with big, hopeful eyes, and he can't resist for long. And so, he pulls some strings and Kanda takes her place. In return, she has to go on a different mission and a Finder accompanies them to London, and will then take her to the mission in a more eastern area of the UK.

Harry really wanted to show the magic to Lenalee, and to Kanda, and to Komui. But he knows that he can't, and decides that when he _could_ show them, he'd show them something _big_, something he did. Something amazing and useful, all in one.

At the train station, they can't find Platform 9 ¾, and Harry isn't sure what to do. It's Lenalee that points out that it would be hidden, considering how the rest of the magical world seemed to be, and so they try to be secretive as they search. They find the way on accident, when Lenalee leans against the pillar and accidentally slips through with a squeak.

Inside is the correct Platform, where there are unmistakable people bustling about. They go on, getting out of the way just in time to avoid a line of redheads that enter one after another. Lenalee goes with him to take his luggage to where it needs to go, and then they both stand a little awkwardly. They had left the Finder outside, waiting for her to return.

"I wish I could go too," She says wistfully.

"Me too," He admits.

"Bring back lots of souvenirs," She smiles at him, "And write a lot, okay?"

"Of course," He smiles too, and then they hug their goodbye.

0

Harry finds a compartment to himself, and he makes sure to take one of the back ones. He's started to feel a little nervous now that he's alone.

While he sits by himself, staring blankly outside the window at the families that were parting, he starts to list off all kinds of things.

It starts out as a list of things to watch out for in terms of telling akuma apart from people, and then it turns into a list of manners that his teacher had taught him. After that it's a list of the periodic table, and then it progresses into the kinds of things he'd like to bring back for everyone.

He's just thinking he wants to get Jerry a rag that will clean all the dishes by itself when the door slides open.

0

Draco looks at the small, startled boy who sat by himself and ponders about whether he should kick the kid out or not.

"Can I help you?" The kid asks, but it lacks the telltale nervous or unsure tremor, the eye shifts and the submissive air that he would expect a kid like this one to have. After a moment, he decides that the kid has a fire to his eyes that wasn't very submissive at all.

"Who are you?" He demands because he has the right to.

"What's it to you?" The other asks calmly with the slightest frown. "That's not how you should address someone."

Huh. So the kid has a backbone. Draco eyes the other and contemplates his next course. The kid looked like he might actually have been raised right – perhaps he was worth his time.

"Draco Malfoy," He introduces proudly.

"Harry Potter," The slightly offended look in the kid's eyes disappear and Draco can't be more pleased.

0

Harry thinks the new kid is a bit too full of himself. He was use to that kind of attitude, honestly, some of the Finders had it and even Kanda could sometimes be that way. But unlike Kanda, this kid probably didn't have anything to back it up. It was obvious what kind of person Draco was – spoiled and selfish. He was obviously trying to get Harry to like him with the way he was bragging about his family and whatnot, and he probably thought he was being quite kind when he began to take pity on Harry, who did not know much about the magical world due to his upbringing, and started to explain things to him without really explaining at all.

He could due without the slandering of the muggles and it didn't take a genius to figure out what 'mudblood' meant. But if he could stop the badmouthing, Harry thinks that the kid couldn't be too bad. And he did need someone who knew more about this world.

And okay, yeah, he did kind of want to befriend someone. Draco was the first kid he'd talked to. His two sidekicks never said a word.

But he really didn't like the slandering.

"How come?" He asked, leaning forward.

"What?"

"How come? Why do you hate 'muggles'?"

"Why?" Draco sputtered a little, "Because... they're inferior! You can't possibly think those Mudbloods on this train are equal with us."

"I think that people earn their worth," Harry replied, leaning back, "It's not fair if people don't earn their rank. When it's just given to them. If a muggle can do a spell just as well as you can, then yeah. They're equal."

Draco sputters some more. He looks outraged, as if he'd just heard the most horrible thing in his life. Harry doesn't care, and he thinks about the Finders, who envy exorcists because they'd never get a chance to do what they wanted the most.

"So, what? You think that any Mudblood should be able to learn magic? That _anybody_ should be able to go to Hogwarts?"

"You sound like you're reciting something you've repeated a lot," Harry observed, "Is that because that's what you really think, or because that's what you've been raised hearing?"

Draco's face goes red, even his ears.

"What do you know?" Draco stands up violently, "You've been raised among muggles, you don't even know about us!"

"And you've been raised in the magical community. I bet you've never stepped foot in a muggle part of town," Harry rose an eyebrow, "If you can prove me wrong, then please do. I'm just saying that I like to think for myself, from things I've seen."

The slight was subtle, but Harry knew Draco recognized it. He felt his urge to make friends slide away as he felt his air of solitude settle back over him. He couldn't help but feel it was impossible to make friends outside the Organization.

The door opened and there was a redhead there who apologized.

"No need," Draco snapped, "I was just leaving."

Leave he did, with his lackeys in tow, though he did pause long enough to look the other over and sneer.

"Really made that one angry, huh?"

0

Ron thought Harry was a little strange, but he was Harry Potter and he wasn't about to criticize him so quickly. Whatever the other had gotten into an argument about had seemed to dampen his mood a little, and he seemed to want to be alone. After a while, Ron managed to get Harry to open up a little.

But he still thought the kid was strange.

0

A bushy haired girl appears briefly during the ride – she's looking for a frog named Trevor. She reminds harry of Lavi, except she's a lot more honest, and quite a bit more bossy. When she finds out that he's Harry Potter, she acts honored, but it seems genuine. After she leaves, Ron comments that he doesn't want to be in the same house as her.

Harry thinks this is really rather mean and rude of him, but doesn't say so directly.

0

He rides the boats just like everyone else, but when they emerge and see Hogwarts for the first time, he's the only one not amazed.

Hogwarts looks far less menacing than the Order's headquarters did, and in fact far more welcoming and warm, but it wasn't Home, and so it just wasn't the same.

0

Harry sees Draco on the steps when they're waiting to enter the Great Hall, and sighs a little with the other glares at him and looks away.

0

He's aware of how the Hall goes silent, how it stares into his back as he crosses the stage. There aren't even any whispers, and he longs for his exorcist uniform, tucked safely into his suitcase. His gloves are a comfort to him, even if Ron thought he was a little strange for wearing them.

The hat talks right into his head and he jumps so badly that it slips to cover his eyes.

"_My, my_," The hat chuckles a little, "_This is quite the head you have here, mister Potter._"

"Yeah," He grouses, "It's so impressive that you're just falling off in amazement, huh?"

He's pretty sure that was a bit of himself he'd picked up from Lavi, for some reason it likes to emerge when he starts to get a little short on patience, and it doesn't help when the hat laughs at him.

He's being laughed at by a raggedy old _hat_.

"_I am far more than 'just a hat',_" It sniffed at him, "_I have sat on the heads of hundreds of thousands. For all that you're 'special', you're nothing but another child to me._"

He stiffened. That the hat could look into his head was not a far stretch from telepathy, he supposes, but he still feels violated. He didn't want the hat to know about the Order. He didn't want anybody to know.

The hat debates where to put him. It tosses aside Ravenclaw after only a moment, and then lingers for a while on Hufflepuff. It seems tempted, but in the end moves on. It remains conflicted between Gryffindor and Slytherin – Harry doesn't really care _where_ he goes. He can learn the same no matter where.

It compliments his drive to get things done no matter the cost, his determination and his quick wits. It then goes to say that he _is_ very brave, braver even than most. It debates for a long time, and he starts to grow impatient.

"_Why did you decide to come to Hogwarts?_" The hat asked.

"Why are you asking me if you can just look and see?" He complained.

"_Just answer me._"

"Because I want to help the Order," He snapped, crossing his arms.

"_No matter what_?"

"No matter what."

"_Hmmm_," It sighed, _"Gryffindor response, Slytherin answer._ _If you were in Slytherin, you could be great..."_

"I don't want to be great," He frowns, "I just want to do my job."

0

The applause when he's sorted – just barely – into Gryffindor is deafening. By then, he's annoyed enough to practically shove the hat into the Professor McGonagall's hands before he departs for his table. It's so obvious that people whisper and wonder what his problem is. Ron hesitantly congratulates him, and he replied with an annoyed, "Yeah. Sure."

Someone on Ron's other side pesters him until he asks Harry what's wrong.

"The hat kept poking it's stupid nose where it didn't belong," He replied shortly. "And then it couldn't make up it's mind."

"Where'd it want to put you?" Ron leaned over curiously.

"Slytherin."

Ron recoiled like he'd just told the other that he was actually a fifty foot tall giant who thought he looked tasty.

0

The food was good, but he missed Jerry's cooking. It wasn't that the food here was lacking quality, because it wasn't, but he supposed that it was just because he was becoming a bit homesick already. He told himself that he was being ridiculous – he'd been away from Home for longer than he had been thus far before.

He was aware of the way everyone was falling into little niches around him. They made friends and formed groups faster than he could finish dinner, and it just made him that much more aware of how bad he was at communicating with kids his age. They all seemed a little too... childish, even though he thought himself unfair for thinking so.

From the staff table, he noticed the turbaned teacher that seemed a little strange, and the mean looking one that was pointedly glaring at him. Straight at him, from all the students in the entire room.

He wonders if it's an akuma, an that sets his teeth on edge because there's too many people around him. He continues to grow more and more uneasy throughout the meal, and he debates leaving on his own, screw the teachers. But finally the feast ends and they're rounded off.

0

That night, Harry dreams of Home and it's a nice dream. Until a man enters and laughs, high and loud, and begins to shoot a green light from his wand. People drop dead instantly, and he's stuck screaming the whole time somewhere nobody can hear.


	3. Year One  One

A/N: What's this? It still lives? Who'd have thunk it. Vaguely big chapter here. I find that these drabble-type things are pretty fun – especially because of how easy it is to jump around, lol.

I'm trying to keep Harry still realistic – keeping in mind how he's been raised, but also his core personality I don't want to change too much. (As fun and sometimes amazing as it is to read about a Harry that was raised differently and is suddenly good at studying and amazing at Potions and super smart, I find I want to keep closer to home. While still keeping the exorcist, mature, save-the-world-mentality thing in there. Tell me how it's going so far?)

* * *

The castle is bigger, and it's form is different from the Order's. The Order was tall – just one huge tower that grew far into the clouds. Hogwarts was made of many towers and quite a few floors, and Harry isn't the only one to have trouble learning the routes. The first time the stairs move on him, he almost jumps over the edge in surprise, and the talking, moving pictures are absolutely fascinating. The library is possible even bigger than the Order's, and the way that there were rooms hidden behind portraits with passwords was really a fun idea. He doesn't tell anyone, but every time he enters the common room, he feels like he's sneaking in and out of a hideout.

He's taking quite a few classes and he knows that it's a bit more than Cloud Nyne had made him study. His physical training would always be more important. He tries to create a schedule to follow, and it's hard to plan anything satisfying around his classes.

He studies hard. He had spent his time reading his school books in the couple months he had waited for the term to begin. Sometimes he had felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head and his brain was disintegrating – nobody ever said books were his strong points – but he often just took breaks and eventually went right back to it. He'd gotten quite a bit further on the theory side of things that way than any other student he knew was.

He seemed to be the only kid in Gryffindor that had any interest at all in studying, even if his interest was forced. Or, at least, he had thought so until he spotted Hermione Granger, her nose in a book. It always was, every time he saw her. He knows that both of them are something of outcasts, but there are others too. He decides not to bother trying to make more friends – not when he can hear most of them whispering about him behind his back.

0

History of magic is the class Harry likes the least and the one he's the least concerned about. He tries to take notes and be a dutiful student, but after a while, he just can't keep up the determination and his attention wavers. It's one of the most boring hours of his day.

That the class is taught by a ghost is something that had alarmed him. He had immediately written home about it – Komui had heard of no such thing, Lenalee had wanted pictures, Kanda hadn't responded at all, and Lavi asked why the school hadn't gotten rid of the thing yet. He wasn't unaware of the way the ghost avoided him as much as absolutely possible, and he's sure that even if everyone else wrote off their teachers utmost polite manners as respect for his celebrity status, that wasn't it. Hermione gives it a strange look and some of the boys roll their eyes and bet about how much Harry's grades improve because of the teacher's supposed idolization.

0

Transfiguration is fun and what Harry seems to be the best at thus far. He thinks that's good – the skill is very useful indeed, especially for the Order. The teacher always looks at him likes she knows something he doesn't, and somehow he wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. She was very stern, and he thinks that she might even be a little intimidating if he didn't know the people he did.

He wonders how she and Cloud Nyne would react to each other.

0

Defense Against the Dark Arts is the class Harry had been looking forward to the most, but it's almost a let down. He's pretty sure that it's because the teacher doesn't do it justice, and so while Professor Quirrel lectures, he reads from library books. Sometimes, he gets the feeling somebody is watching him, and he looks up only to see Quirrel's back to him.

Thing is, he's learned to trust feelings like that.

0

Harry is no stranger to people who dislike him. It's a normal thing, and their reasons often vary. He usually doesn't let it bother him, but this time, it does.

Professor Snape is greasy and mean and unfair – everybody said so. He is sure that his peers are exaggerating, as students often do about their teachers, but if anything, he finds that in his case they might as well have been _under_-exaggerating. Snape glares at him constantly, and asks him advanced questions they were still quarters away from learning. Sometimes, Harry actually knows the answers thanks to the time he had spent studying his books when he'd been waiting for the term to begin, but the Professor never acts impressed, proud, or much of anything really.

Snape hates everyone. That's what Harry thinks. But he must have done something he's not aware of because if Snape hates everyone, then he _detests_ Harry.

It's hard not to hate the teacher back. Usually when he has to deal with somebody who doesn't like him, it's not for extended periods of time. But he sits and he keeps a blank face, and when he feels his annoyance or anger start to rise, he shuts his eyes and meditates. He isn't nearly as good at meditation as Kanda is, and sometimes he can't do it at all because he's so restless, but it usually works well enough to calm him down.

Unfortunately, Snape doesn't seem to appreciate him having his eyes closed.

"Am I boring you, Mister Potter?" Snape asks in annoyance after a few classes.

"No sir," Harry replies, keeping his eyes closed and feeling like he's not going to be able to get away with it this time.

"Then why, pray tell, are your eyes closed? Do you think you can study your book or your directions when you can't even see them?" The teacher sneers, "Or are you planning to copy from one of your Gryffindor friends?"

Slowly, Harry opens his eyes and looks up. He had been knocked around profusely when he'd tried to cheat on Cloud Nyne's tests. Literally. Suffice it to say, he knew better. That Snape did not even know him and yet was accusing him of doing so annoys him even further.

"It helps me concentrate," He says with a frown, "I don't do it the whole class."

"'Concentrate'?" Snape glares and looks like he's barely resisting rolling his eyes, "Couldn't you come up with a better excuse that that, Potter? Perhaps you think you are above the rules thanks to your ill-earned celebrity status, but I expect you to pay attention in my class."

Harry thinks later that it's the stress of being in a new place and being surrounded by people who always carried the threat of being akuma everyday and horrible sleep because of it, that he looses his temper just a little.

"It isn't an excuse, _sir_," He grits out, "It may be an excuse for someone else, but it's not for me."

"Not for you, you say?" Snape's voice is smooth, dark, "You think that you are so far above everyone that it's 'not for you'?"

"I don't know why you're so fixated on my status," Harry glares, "But it has nothing to do with anything."

"Detention, Potter, for back talking and lying. Tonight. Six o'clock in my office."

His hands slam on the table. He's on his feet and he knows everyone's staring at him. He has a one-track mind and there's only one thing going through it.

"And where, exactly, do you think you're going?" Snape demands sharply as he gathers his things.

"I'm not interested in teachers who can only talk down to me and treat everyone unfairly just because _he_ thinks every thing's unfair," He snaps, shoving his potions book in his bag roughly, "I'm not a liar, and I don't appreciate being called one."

He's been called a liar more times than he can count. Mostly it was by the Dursley's, and that's one of the things he remembers best from that life, besides being his cousins personal punching bag, and still afterward. When he delivers bad news to unfortunate families, or tells someone about the akuma, he's always called a liar. The more he'd heard it, the more he had disliked hearing it.

He absolutely _hates_ being called a liar. By anyone.

"You presume to know me, Potter?" When Harry looks up, Snape has a strange expression on his face. It's as if he's not looking at Harry at all, but somebody else, and Harry thinks he's just gotten a big clue.

"There are two kinds of people who are like you, Professor," He says coldly, shouldering his bag, "The kind who are genuinely bad, and the kind that I bet you are."

"And what's that?"

"The kind who was treated badly for whatever reason, who probably had a bad life and suffered a tragedy," His eyes narrow, "And who then takes it out on the rest of the world for it."

He leaves, and he's aware of the door slamming shut behind him. He doesn't care.

0

"I know that Professor Snape isn't the most pleasant of teachers," Dumbledore tells him, "But you really should be more discreet, Harry."

Harry doesn't appreciate this talk, and cares for it even less. He can admit that a somber Dumbledore who isn't twinkling is a little off putting, but he shrugs it aside. He reaches for his diplomatic side.

"I lost my temper," Harry says, "And I apologize. But I don't take back anything I said. No teacher should be like he is."

"Harry," The headmaster begins slowly, "While you're at Hogwarts, you're as much of a student as anyone else. Everyone has to go through the same classes with the same teachers, excluding the extra classes. You must simply learn to deal with it."

"I've learned to deal with a lot of things," Harry shakes his head, "But why should I deal with this? Even teachers have rules – they're suppose to behave a certain way towards their students. If he won't follow the rules, neither will I."

"I'm afraid that's not how it works," The old man looks his age, now, as he pulls off his glasses and cleans them, "I will talk to Severus. But Harry... haven't you ever wanted to be a normal student?"

"I'm no liar, Headmaster," He says before he leaves, "And I'd be lying if I tried to act like one."

0

"Harry!" It's Ron, wearing a huge grin, "What you did in Potions class? Nice one!"

"I wasn't trying to start anything," Harry replies cautiously.

"Still," Seamus claps him on the shoulder, "It was still bloody great to see that gits face go red like that."

0

Socializing with other people is difficult, he finds, and it's hard to find the same things funny or interesting. He wants to fit in. He sees other students grouped together, looking so at ease and laughing, and sometimes he envies them, just a little. He recognizes it instantly, and he knows it's dangerous. So he begins to takes up more of his time, studying and training.

0

"Hey, mate, you look pretty horrible," Ron points out through a mouthful of eggs, "Not sleep well?"

"Not even close," Harry mutters and would have slammed his forehead into the table if he thought it would help him wake up. He only grabs a slice of toast before he leaves.

"Haven't seen bags that dark before," Seamus comments, "What does he _do_ all night?"

"I don't know, read? He does carry around a lot of books," Ron shrugs, "He's right weird sometimes."

"Yeah," Seamus chuckles a little, "The other day, I walked in when he was writing a letter, and he almost jumped on the table so I couldn't see."

"You sure it was a letter?"

"I think so. It kind of looked like one."

"Oh well. He can go be weird wherever he goes during the day."

A few seats down, Hermione glances over with a slight frown before mentioning how unpolite it is to talk with your mouth full.

0

Neville is one of the Gryffindor's that Harry likes the most. Neville is quiet instead of loud, and he's not nosy. Sometimes his lack of self-confidence bugs Harry, but that only reminds him of Lenalee, when she was younger. When Ron is playing wizard's chess with someone else, or he simply wants someone quieter, he'll find himself sitting with Neville instead.

"How can you stand being stared at all the time?" Neville asks one day, and he blinks in surprise.

"I'm just use to it, I guess."

"I don't see how you can get use to it at all," Neville sighs gloomily, "I'd always be worried I'd trip over myself or something, and I'd be so worried, I'd be too distracted, and then I _would_ trip over myself."

"You should have more confidence in yourself," Harry replies with a slight frown, "You don't have anything to be ashamed of. You just care about what other people think too much, that's all."

Some seats down, a few Gryffindor's frown and whisper amongst each other.

"I wish I couldn't care," The other sighs again, "You're lucky, Harry."

"I'm a lot of things," He smiles just a little, "But I don't think 'lucky' is one of them."

0

Harry writes back to the Order every week. Hedwig is always willing to take his post, and she always returns with a letter. He always looks forward to it. Often times there isn't anything particularly important, but even if Kanda or Lavi doesn't say anything, and Lenalee is gone, Komui always talks on and on about nothing. Komui's handwriting is often messy and sometimes coffee stained, but it fills Harry with a sense of peace and contentment, and sometimes a strong homesickness. Every once in while, Jerry will send along a box of food he likes, or Johnny will tell him about some new invention. They never mention Finder losses or exorcist wounds, and he decides just to take the good.

0

Harry meets Hermione personally in the library one day. Harry is on a high shelf, reaching for a book, but it slips from his grasp and falls. It lands right next to the girl, who jumps so violently that she drops her own book and shrieks a little.

They are hissed at to be quiet as Harry slides down the ladder and apologizes to her hurriedly.

"That's no way to treat a book!" She exclaims in a lowered voice.

"I didn't mean to!" He dusts the cover off, "It slipped."

"At least it didn't land _on_ me," She grumbles, and he winces as he looks at how heavy the book is.

"Um, sorry, again." He goes to leave, but she interrupts with,

"What are you reading? That looked advanced for a first year."

"Oh," He holds it up so she can see, "It's called 'One-Hundred Ways To Immobilize and Bind'."

"Why would you be interested in a book like that?" She asks, wrinkling her nose, "Are you planning on getting into fights? You know that's against the rules."

"No," He grins a little, "I wanted to look up ways to preserve an objects original condition, but Professor McGonagall said that's a little too advanced for me still, and suggested I look at something else."

Hermione's eyes light up and Harry finds that there really is somebody else his age that can keep up with him.

0

Hermione is surprised by Harry Potter. He isn't quite what she had expected. He _is_ a little weird, sometimes, and she doesn't like how he sometimes looks at her. That is, like she's nothing but a child compared to him. Other than that, though, she doesn't really see any signs that he thinks hes' above everyone else, or that he's stuck up, like she hears other students whispering.

One thing that she finds strange is the fact that he doesn't seem to have any real passion for reading and learning – yet he studies his books constantly. He has to concentrate hard, and often times develops headaches and has to take a break for a while. But he usually goes back to his reading.

He has a natural knack for the practical side of things. He doesn't care to read about theories or laws or anything he doesn't have to. He focuses on charms, spells, curses, hexes. Anything that can be used, and if he has to study something else to understand how to do a certain spell, he does so reluctantly.

Another thing she finds strange is that he disappears a lot. There are times in the day where nobody can find him. He's not in the library, the common room, a class, or the Great Hall. He never seems to be out on the grounds either. Hermione mentions it to Professor McGonagall, who seems to watch over Harry as if she takes his health personally, but the teacher just shrugs it off.

She thinks that he's hiding something, but she doesn't know what.

0

It's on a Friday that he receives an unexpected letter. He's surprised to find that it's from Hagrid, but pleased nonetheless. He hadn't really seen Hagrid much since had arrived at Hogwarts, and he'd been so busy he hadn't really thought about the other either.

He's even more pleased to find that it's an invitation for afternoon tea. He's glad to go, especially after another difficult session with Snape.

0

The Headmaster must have talked to Snape, as he had said he would, because the Professor sneers at him and glares and looks over his work critically, but he doesn't call Harry out in class anymore. There's no more unfair questions, no... anything really. Harry supposes that being ignored almost completely is a lot better than the alternative, but sometimes he wonders.

It's often Snape's offhand comments that gets to him the most.

0

He goes to Hagrid's on his own. He thought about asking Ron to go with him, or even Neville, and Hermione, interesting as she was, even crossed his mind. But in the end, he sets off for the groundskeepers hut on his own.

"'lright there, 'arry?" Hagrid asks as he opens the door wide.

"Yeah. Thanks for inviting me," Harry replies honestly.

"No problem, 'arry!" Hagrid seems a little flustered as he shuts the door and busies himself, "Ah'm surprised to see ya alone. Would'a thought you'd brought a friend along."

"I figured I wouldn't bother them," Harry shrugs, looks around the hut.

Hagrid is welcoming and talkative, and Harry finds that it really does turn into a nice evening. He notes the article in the newspaper that talks about the break in at Gringotts. He notices it occurred on his birthday, and the day Hagrid had picked up that strange, small package from the very same place.

0

Harry knows that he had angered Draco quite a bit on the train, but it's still off-putting whenever he notices the others scrutiny. He doesn't notice, at first, because he's long been use to those kinds of stares, but when he does, the other boy just sneers and looks away.

Ron badmouths Draco, and Draco hates Ron, and Harry supposes that it's not really safe to take either side. Draco reminds him of Kanda – if Kanda were more childish, far less brave, and a big bully. Then he decides that there's not really a comparison at all, and he should stop thinking about Home.

0

He's never flown before, whether with wings, or with a broom. He's been thrown long distances, sure. He's pretty skeptical when he hears about the flying classes, and he almost expects some kind of hoax.

He finds that it's very real, and it has the potential to be quite dangerous. He's drawn to try it immediately. After all, flying was one thing most every non-magical person always wants to do. Unfortunately, the class takes it slow, and they aren't allowed to go off flying on their own. For the first class, they don't even go more than a few feet off the ground.

It's still a fascinating experience that he can't wait to write Home about.

0

He doesn't really see the point of a Remembrall, but Neville is rather fond of it. It's probably because it was a gift from his grandmother.

When Draco snags it away and taunts Neville with it – who is still as unself-confident as ever and intimidated by the Slytherin – Harry knows that it won't end well.

"Well?" Draco sneers, "Don't you want it back?"

"Come on, Malfoy," Neville pleads, and Harry can seethe others hands shaking just a little.

"Is that it? You're just going beg? Well, if that's all..."

"Give it back, Draco," Harry interrupts quietly. Malfoy looks gleeful.

"Or what? Will you philosophize with me? 'Convince' me to put it down?"

"Is that how your so-called 'superior lineage' does things?" Harry asks softly, "You bully people? Put them down, _steal_ their things, be rude and mean?"

He stands slowly.

"I'm not impressed."

Draco stares for a moment, and then Professor McGonagall is there, interrupting the disturbance, and Malfoy plays it off before hurrying away.

0

"Yeah, Harry," Neville admits later, "I... can't really explain it. It's just, sometimes you're really... intimidating. But at the same time, you're... small. Like me. I don't know."

"You think other people think so too?" Harry wonders.

"I thought you didn't care what other people thought?"

"Well," He winces a little, "Maybe it's less that I don't care...and more that I don't care about what I can't change?"

0

Harry likes Madam Hooch's straight-forward attitude as she teaches them how to mount a broom, readying them to learn how to fly. It's not that hard, he doesn't think, and he listens with one ear as Hermione lists rule after rule about it, and with the other ear about how Neville has always been banned from flying because of how clumsy he is.

Neville proves just how appropriate that ban was when his broom took off, shooting out into the distance over the Forbidden Forest, while he himself fell and broke his wrist.

Harry feels bad for him, and watches as the teachers takes the boy away. He misses Draco picking up the Remembrall that Neville had dropped. Draco comments on the object, and Harry knows immediately the other won't let it go.

When Draco takes off into the air, teasing Harry about it, he contemplates doing nothing. If he got into trouble here, there would be big consequences – there were risks of expulsion, according to Hermione, even when the student isn't there under special rules and expectations.

But out of all the students in Hogwarts, Neville was the one that had been the nicest and most understanding. So Harry mounts his broom and kicks off.

Flying gives him a sense of freedom; it was as if, for a moment, he was free of everything. And, if not free, then at least it gave him a great push, an awakening. It was refreshing and amazing, and he loves it immediately. He wonders if this is what Lenalee feels when she has the small smile on her face as she moves through the air on her Dark Boots.

Then he catches up to Draco again, and maybe it's the rush of all those feelings that makes it hard to think like a more mature exorcist, like he's suppose to. But he points out how Draco's lackey's aren't around, and asks if this was Draco's way of proving him wrong.

When Draco reaches his arm back, obviously intending to through the Remembrall, Harry is already behind him, plucking the object right out of the other boy's hands. He keeps a hold on the side of the other boy's broom, partly to keep his balance, parting to make sure that the other doesn't go anywhere.

"Hey!" Draco exclaims, "That was cheating, Potter!"

"Cheating?" Harry laughs, and internally tells himself he really should be calming down and thinking straight now, but can't bring himself to care, "You're the one who stole it in the first place!"

Draco's face turns red, even his neck turns red, and he wiggles a little.

"Let go of my broom before you make us both loose control!"

"If you stay still, it won't be a problem," Harry rolls his eyes.

They start to argue. He can't say, later on, that he remembers it all. It's pretty trivial, and far more childish than he usually is. Somehow, it was almost fun.

But Draco doesn't think so. He looses his own temper, and, even knowing that it wasn't a safe move, he tries to jerk his broom out of the others hand.

Harry has a strong grip. Unnaturally so. When he finds the broom trying to jerk away, his grip tightens so much that he feels wood crack and splinters under his grip, and he looses his balance on his own broom. He does a strange, forced sort of front flip off his broom, which immediately goes tumbling off somewhere below, and he holds on even tighter to his only lifeline.

Draco lets out a short shriek when his broom breaks so badly that it's barely held together at all. Then they're falling fast and Harry knows that they had been quite high up.

He lists off his choices. They're very few. His broom was gone, Draco's had broken, and if there was a spell that would stop them from so high up, he didn't know it.

There was only one other device that would allow him to save Draco.

So he grabs the other, who looks so frightened he might pass out. He's not really amused when Draco seems stuck between punching him in the face, trying to get away, and clinging to him as his last hope. The Slytherin screams all the way down, pausing briefly only when there's a flash of light.

When they land, it's extremely jarring. Harry's knees slam into the ground almost immediately after his feet do, and Draco is sent sprawling from his hold. For a few several moments there's nothing but silence and their heavy breathing. Slowly, Draco looks back at Harry, turning his head and staring with fear-dilated eyes.

Harry knows the questions are coming. He knows, and he hates himself for it. He's disappointed that he had gotten himself into such a situation. He shouldn't have acted so childish. He shouldn't have followed Draco. He shouldn't have gotten involved at all.

This, he thought, _this_ is why I can't be like a normal student, Headmaster.

0

"What... what was that...?" Draco gestures breathlessly over his upper torso and stares at Harry's arms, glancing frequently between those and Harry's face.

"Nothing," Harry looks away and stares off into the trees of the Forbidden Forest, wondering if the teacher had noticed they were gone yet.

"Nothing? That wasn't 'Nothing'!"

"It's none of your business, Malfoy!" He snaps angrily, "What do you want me to do, spill my guts to someone like you?"

"That... Was that even magic?" Draco looks bewildered, confused, "It had to be. But what...?"

There's a moment of silence.

"Is that why you where those gloves all the time?"

Harry is vaguely, darkly surprised. He supposes that Draco couldn't be toward the upper half of his year if he wasn't smart, even if he didn't act like it out of class. He wonders why the other had to show his intelligence in the least appropriate of moments. When he doesn't answer, Draco continues,

"But those things... they were..." He seems speechless for a moment before rushing on with, "What, do you think someone's going to attack you, Potter? That kind of thing..."

Harry tries to stand, realizes that he wasn't unscathed from the fall after all, and forces himself to his feet.

"I told you it's none of your business, Malfoy," He says again, coldly.

"Of course not," Draco sneers, seemingly coming back around to himself, "The great Boy-Who-Lived lives in a different world from us 'normal' people, right? What, you have some great, dark secret, huh?"

Harry knows the other boy is jealous. He knows because he's seen it so often. It only serves to make him angrier, because at least the Finders know what would have been expected of them. Draco didn't have a clue.

"That's right," He says, standing right over the other and trying to take a page out of Kanda's book and look as intimidating as he can, "I do. And if you tell your so-called friends what you just saw, there's going to be a lot of powerful people really upset with you, Draco Malfoy. You're Slytherin – you should know what that means."

Draco does, by the look on his face and the paling of his skin, but he tries to play it off.

"You're bluffing," He accuses, but his voice is a little shaky, "You don't have anyone like that behind you."

"They'll make you disappear," Harry warns, checking his ankle and scowling when he sees how black and blue it is already. It's probably broken. "I don't think you want to disappear, do you?"

He's not lying, but he's definitely playing it up. He doesn't want the other spreading even more rumors. He's already tired of trying to fit in and hide most of his activities to the point that he disappears for plenty of time everyday. Constant paranoia can drive a person literally insane.

"I don't believe you."

But Harry knows that Draco won't tell. And he doesn't.

0

Madam Hooch was not happy. She docks a huge amount of points and they both receive a large amount of detention that will last for the next two months. It only serves to make Harry more upset, knowing that his time had been stretched as it was.

0

"Did you hear?" Draco hears a fellow Slytherin gossip, as they always do, "I heard that Potter broke his ankle earlier."

"Doing what?" Another asks.

"Apparently, he said he fell down the stairs when they moved. What a klutz!"

Draco knows Harry Potter is anything but a klutz, and tries to pretend he didn't hear anything.


	4. Year One Two

A/N: I recently got several reviews for this story, and it reminded me that I hadn't updated in a little while, so I needed to start working on it again. So, thus, this chapter.

I was reminded of the breaks I use to use, which I had kind of forgotten about, so I'm going back to that. (Psh... looking at it once it's uploaded... it's deleted said breaks. I rather dislike that... why the heck would anyone program it to delete ANYTHING in a file that someone's uploaded?)

I've had a few ideas for this story, but unfortunately, they're those kinds of things that aren't really scenes, but slowly built up/gradual things... Not things I could show in one chapter. Which kind of sucks, lol. And I note that it's harder to just go with the flow when using drabbles like this... easier, in a way, but in another, much harder.

(BTW, recent chapters of DGM? Awesome.)

* * *

McGonagall isn't happy with Harry because of the detentions he had earned. Harry isn't happy with himself either, and does not need her to voice her own disapproval. What bothers him the most is not even that he had let those feelings from flying cloud his judgment, or that he had been caught off guard when Malfoy had jerked his broom, but instead, it was the final result – that Malfoy had seen his Innocence.

Granted, the Slytherin doesn't have the _slightest_ clue of what it had been, or just how important (Or powerful! Imagine if he had discovered _that_ part of his secret!) that it was. He doesn't know about akuma, or the Earl, or anything about the Order. But just seeing the Innocence made Harry feel nervous. He did not want anybody to know.

Not because he doesn't want them to judge him, not because he is afraid they would be afraid or pity him, _or_ because he just wanted to appear as normal as he could. It is because they might not approve, and might actually try to do something about it. Or worse, somehow they would be drawn into the war and get in trouble.

Harry does draw a lot of trouble without even trying.

0

He notices that people like to invade his personal space a lot. He figures, in hindsight, that it's completely normal. For him, 'invading his personal space' includes even the smaller gestures, such has a pat on the shoulder or a tap on the arm. It bothers him a lot.

He no longer jumps violently every time someone does, and he can't tell if that's good or bad. It's good because at least people don't look at him like he's the weirdest thing for it, but it might be bad because he might be losing his reflexes. He is almost as safe as he can be here in terms of akuma, but not completely, and he does not want to walk into a crowd come the next time he goes Home and dies because he's forgotten how to be on guard against potential akuma.

Still, he tries to make it clear that he does not like to be touched, and people start to catch on.

0

The detentions are annoying and time consuming. He dislikes them immensely, but it softens a little when McGonagall takes pity and assigns him to be Hagrid's helper after the first several days. He doesn't know what Draco is forced to do for _his_ detentions, but Harry does not see the other.

Hagrid is not the most organized and his animals are often very dangerous, but Harry finds that it is far better than doing normal, boring chores. At least the creatures are interesting. His quick reflexes save him several times from being stung or bitten. He learns a lot about them, and even about the Forbidden Forest, which Hagrid allows him to venture into several times when he needs a certain plant or another.

But they still take up his precious time, and he tries to make up for it anyway he can.

0

Harry knows he's talked about a lot. He's weird, he doesn't like to be touched, he doesn't have a sense of humor, he's dark and mysterious and egotistical. They say that he thinks he's better than everyone else because he's the Boy-Who-Lived, and that's why he doesn't have any friends.

Neville still talks to him, though, and sometimes he'll meet Hermione in the Library and they'll study together. She's helped him several times, and he even managed to lend a hand t her once or twice in return. They might not be his friends from the Order, but they help him feel a little less alone.

0

He's just leaving the Library one day when he sees a few older Gryffindors. They lock eyes for a moment, but then Harry looks away and starts to leave. He hears one of them sneer at him, and he sees one of them, from the corner of his eye, elbow another with a slightly disapproving glare.

0

He's tired. He isn't sleeping well, and he wants to lay down and sleep for the next several days. He hates how he can barely sleep at night and how he can barely stand to sit in between his House mates at meal times.

He's on his own today, and it's well after curfew. He is returning late from one of his excursions, determined as he was to make up for the time he loses from the detentions. He is glad that he does not have classes tomorrow, and he's sure he's going to sleep through the entire day but does not mind.

He blames how tired he is for the reason he does not notice Filch around the corner. He sees the other, and then swings back around the corner with wide eyes.

Unfortunately, Filch had noticed something was amiss.

"Who's there?"

Harry turns and tries to creep away, but then he hears quick footsteps headed right for him, so he breaks into a run. His own footsteps are light, but it's hard to be silent when running on stone. He hears Filch yell after him, and then he's being followed by the adult.

He knows McGonagall and Dumbledore both know about how he breaks the curfew – they had given him permission. But he had also been told that he should try not to get caught, because they could only let him get away with things so much before people start to notice.

He enters a part of the castle he does not recognize, and is quietly impressed that he's still being followed. When he notices that he's a bit lost, however, he decides it's time to hide rather than run. So he ducks into one of the rooms and quietly hopes that Filch goes the other way.

He waits in breathless silence until the sound of footsteps fade. Then he dares to look behind him.

Seeing a giant three headed dog almost slobbering over him is enough to make anybodies heart stop.

It roars at him, and he doesn't even care that Filch might catch him. He's out of that room and running like he's got an army of akuma on his heels. He runs the entire way back to the common room, where Neville is sitting and asks what is wrong the moment that he bursts in.

"Did you know about the giant three-headed dog?" Harry hears himself ask dazedly.

"Um. Are you okay, Harry? You don't look good," Neville stands in concern, but Harry waves him off,.

"I think I need to lay down. Now. Goodnight."

When he reflects on it later, he recalls that the monster had been guarding a trap-door. He's not entirely sure how he had noticed, considering how fast he'd gotten himself out of there, but he recalled it pretty distinctly. Obviously, that dog had been guarding something.

He ponders for a while on what, exactly, it was guarding before he remembers that mysterious package Hagrid had picked up during their trip to Gringotts, and how that bank had been robbed that very same day. He wonders if that seemingly important item is under that trap door, but then he's sleeping and cares for nothing.

0

He tells Hermione about it the next day when he forces himself to get up instead of sleeping it away like he wants to. She's far more fixated on the fact that he had been breaking curfew, rather than the curious item that at least _somebody_ seemed to want bad enough to break into a bank to get.

"It's not like Dumbledore doesn't know," He tries to defend himself, "So I'm not _really_ breaking the rules if you look at it that way."

"Why would he let you out after curfew?" Hermione asks with a deep frown on her face. "That's not very fair."

"Because," He winces slightly at the sound of 'fair', "I... have a lot of things to work on, so I go to a classroom to do it."

"Why can't you do it in the common room, or your bedroom?" She eyes him, and he has the distinct feeling that she's trying to piece things together.

"It's... a project, of sorts. And it's a secret. I'm not allowed to show anybody."

"Is that so...?" She lets him drop it, but Harry feels as though it wasn't at all over.

0

One of the best places to relax is on one of the towers. One of the best places to study is near the Quidditch Pitch. Often Neville has to remind him to pay attention when the teams are playing because he gets distracted watching them play, but it's a good place.

Sometimes he wishes that he could join the Gryffindor team, but then he remembers his work load and his mind sours.

0

His long list of detentions ends and he feels refreshed and ready for action. He can't wait to put all that extra time to use – or at least to be able to get a little more rest. McGonagall isn't the only one to comment on the bags under his eyes or how jumpy he is when he's really tired. The nurse had tried to offer some Dreamless Sleep potion to help him, but warned him not to take it constantly. He found that taking it on the nights before a day he has reserved for lighter activities helps him recover a remarkable amount of energy.

He's in Charms class not long after when they are trying make a feather fly. He's in the middle of wondering if he could make Kanda or Lavi fly with it, or even himself, and wondering what Lenalee would think of that when he hears Hermione trying to give Ron advice. She tries to correct his pronunciation, and Harry has to admit that he could understand why Ron looked so disgruntled. Her tone isn't all that helpful, even though he knows that was her intention.

The teacher congratulates Hermione for getting the charm on her first try, and Harry scowls slightly when he hears Ron insult her behind her back. He's even more annoyed when he notices that she leaves in tears.

0

Quirrell is the one who bursts into the Great Hall and announces that there's a troll loose in the dungeons. There's a great uprising of sound amongst the students at this, and Dumbledore requests the older students to lead the younger ones back to their Houses for their safety. Harry's mind kicks into overdrive; Hermione had been crying in one of the bathrooms all day and had not even gone to classes after Charms. She did not know about the troll. She could leave any minute now. This _would_ be about the time should might leave to go to dinner, if she so planned to go.

He whispers as much to Neville, who's eyes practically bug out.

"We should tell a teacher," He responds, but Harry frowns a little.

Telling a teacher would be the smart thing to do, wouldn't it, he mused. There's no reason that he shouldn't, except...

"I'm going to find her myself," He murmurs back, and Neville lets out a squeak of horror.

"You can't be serious? What if you run into the troll?"

"Then I'll just not run into it," Harry grins a little, but it falters when he sees how torn Neville is. "You don't need to come with me, Neville. Wait for me in the common room, okay?"

"But..."

He sneaks away when almost nobody is looking. He does see Draco briefly, who no doubt sees him sneaking off, but then the blond looks away and ignores him. Then he finds his way to the dungeons. It's not particularly hard, and with everyone going back to their rooms the hallways were mostly empty.

0

He knows he's getting close to the troll when he smells it. It's a strong smell and hard as heck to miss. He spots it down one corridor and realizes that neither of them are very far from the bathroom that his sharp ears can hear crying coming from.

He uses all the stealth he knows to sneak into the bathroom without being seen.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice is something between scandalized and confused, "What are you doing in here? It's the _girls_-"

It only takes a few strides before he's right before her and covering her mouth with a hissed 'shhh!'. They wait in silence for a few seconds before she rips his hand away.

"What are you doing?" She hisses in return, wiping her eyes hastily.

"Apparently a troll is loose," He replies quietly, "Dumbledore is sending everyone back to their rooms. I saw it just a few minutes ago."

"...That's not funny," Her eyes are wide with fear.

"Do you see me laughing?" He rolls his eyes and adds, "You've been here all day, right? So you didn't know. I think it's a good idea if we go back to the tower now."

She hesitantly nods, and he grabs her arm and pulls her towards the door. He would normally avoid the grabbing of arms, but she looks as if she's about to fall over or do something stupid in her confusion, and he wants to make sure he knows where she is while he's not looking.

Problem is, the moment they exit they find themselves staring up at a twelve foot tall troll.

Hermione screams, and Harry shoves her back and dives with her when it swings it's club. Stone goes flying as it rips apart the doorway, and he realizes his mistake when he looks up and sees the bathroom surrounding them.

The troll lumbers in behind them, and Harry grabs Hermione again, shoving her to her feet and shoving her back some more. The way she grabs onto his sleeve isn't very helpful.

It swings its club again, and he forces her to duck with him. She screams again as the wooden stalls are smashed to bits and goes flying everywhere. The troll steps forward, and Harry tries to think faster, to think of how to handle this new development. He yells at Hermione to get _back_ already, and she's about to start crying again but thankfully does back up.

The third swing destroys the sinks. Water starts to spray over the floors. Harry sees an opportunity to run, but knows he cannot. Not when Hermione was not that far behind him.

He dives away from a directly downward swing and slides on the slippery floor. His recovery is too slow – the club connects to his side and he is rocketed across the bathroom into one of the walls. Broken tiles rain down and now Hermione is definitely crying and shouting at him.

The hit had hurt, undoubtedly, but it had given him a chance. The troll started to ignore him for favor of Hermione, and the moment that the troll's back was to Harry, he took a deep breath and lunged.

He grabbed the club, stopping it from being swung, and then jerked it out of the creature's grip. His Innocence flared to life, and he leaned back... then flung the club right at the back of the trolls head.

The ground shook slightly as it fell, and it did not get back up again.

Hermione just stared at it for a few seconds, then at Harry. Her mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing emerged. Then,

"What did you do...?" He fumbled for a few seconds. He's pretty sure that he'd managed to deactivate his Innocence in time, but he hadn't really been thinking about how to explain what he'd done otherwise.

"I... Used my wand?" He struggled not to make it sound like a question.

"I saw a green glow, and..." She rubbed her eyes for a moment before adding, "And if you only levitated it, it would have dropped on it's head. We haven't learned how to do anything else besides levitate."

"You know I like to study other spells," He wiped his hands on his pants before adding, "Can we go?"

She stood shakily, but when she approaches him, her eyes shine in concern, "You got hit with that club... shouldn't you be in pieces?"

"A club wouldn't really make pieces out of me, generally. I'd probably be mush instead."

She blushed in annoyance, "Fine. Why aren't you mush?"

"Because I'm tougher than people give me credit for," He almost even smirked. If only the more annoying students at this school knew the kinds of things he'd done...

Hermione was still confused and unsure, and probably emotionally spent. He knew he was not the only one glad to leave.

0

Unfortunately, McGonagall was upon them almost the same moment they walked out. She questions them about what they were doing down there first, then looks around at the damaged doorway and pushes by them. Harry sighs and hopes he's not about to earn more detentions.

He appreciates the way that Hermione takes the blame, and the way that while the Professor takes away points for her 'foolishness', she gives Harry twice as much for his 'bravery'. Harry's not sure he approves, but at least he doesn't get any detention.

0

Neville has worked himself into quite the knot by the time they return. He's also guilt ridden that he could not gather up his courage to accompany Harry, even knowing Hermione might have been in some serious trouble. Both Harry and Hermione reassure him, but Harry doesn't think that, in the end, it made much of a difference to the other boy.

He supposes that one good thing came out of it though. He felt as if he had gained as close of a friend as he could have, considering how many secrets he had, and how big they were.

0

November rolls around, and Hermione notices Harry is beginning to get fidgety. He doesn't explain why and shrugs it off when asked, but she thinks it's fairly obvious that if it's making_ Harry _of all people anxious, then it must be no small thing.

He begins to study harder, but he also does it less – instead, the hours that he disappears lengthens. Hermione still does not know where Harry goes, and the only thing he will say about it is that it pertains to his home life. She doesn't know how, but she can tell that he's very touchy about his home, and whenever he speaks about it, it has always been a slip of the tongue. It only proves to make her more curious about what, exactly, he could be hiding.

0

Harry is going out to read a book by the lake when Snape finds him and demands to know what he's doing. Harry explains, but points are taken from him for taking a book outside the castle walls which was, apparently, not allowed. The book is confiscated and he finds himself watching the professor limp away.

He finds out the validity of that rule first. He finds that it _is_ a real rule, but is annoyed nonetheless. He decides to find Snape and ask for the book back; he'd just gotten it after the last borrower had finally returned it, and he did not like his studies to be interrupted by such a petty cause.

He finds Snape, but he is in the middle of talking to Filch. His robes are rolled up, baring his bloody and mangled feet. From the quick glance, his expert experience with wounds allows him to observe that they look like very large gouges. Such as from claws or talons. By the width, he guesses claws, but they are so large that for a moment, he is confused as to what could have possibly caused them.

But then Snape is screaming at him to leave, so he retreats quickly. Later, he tells Hermione and Neville about how the wounds look like they might have come from the three-headed dog.

0

Even Hermione is a little baffled by Harry's sudden extreme determination. It is as if he is studying fervently for a big test. She tries to ask, once, but he simply makes a hasty get away. She decides that he needs a break – he's gaining bags under his eyes even darker than before and he continuously falls asleep in class. A fact his teachers do not appreciate.

She suggests tea with Hagrid, and she's pleasantly surprised when he hardly argues. He seems exhausted the entire time, and in an attempt to make him a little more lively, mentions the wounds he'd witnessed of Professor Snape's. He talks about it and makes a little effort to question Hagrid on why, exactly, the teacher had such wounds from that dog, but Hagrid clams up... mostly.

He claims that whatever the dog is hiding is between Dumbledore and a man named Nicholas Flamel. She doesn't recognize the name and apparently neither does Harry, but she's slightly put off by the fact that even she seems more interested that he does.

0

She's just about had it with just how much Harry's burning himself out – he'd disappeared the entire last weekend and had returned not only sore, but had continued to disappear everyday after that, missing dinner and not returning until well past curfew. She's contemplating how to corner him about it when one night, he does not disappear at all. This strange new development makes her suspicious, and so thought she doesn't mention it, she spies a little. It's not until later on that he makes his move, slipping out of the common room.

She follows him. He's nervous and fidgeting a lot, and looking around like he's about to do something he shouldn't. She thinks that she's been caught at least three times on the way to wherever they're going, but each time he shakes his head, mumbles to himself, and continues on.

Hermione is surprised when they stop at Professor McGonagall's quarters. There's a man in a white cloak standing to the side of the door, and he greets Harry differentially. Harry nods in return, and almost seems to pace a little outside the door for several moments.

"If you don't enter soon, they're going to get worried," The stranger mused. Almost immediately, the door swung open and McGonagall stood there, eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing, dawdling outside the door? Hurry inside, delaying won't help anything."

She ushers Harry inside, and Hermione has time to hear "Supervisor? You came yourself?" before the door is shut and she can hear no more.

There's silence for several seconds. She wonders if maybe she should just go back. She's definitely puzzled... 'supervisor'? What kind of 'supervisor'?

She's just turned to leave when the stranger calls out,

"Who's there?" The man sounds alarmed and perhaps a slight bit nervous. Hermione freezes and her heart races. What if she got caught and then got in trouble? She did not think curfew had quite passed, but it would be obvious that she had followed Harry, wouldn't it?

"Show yourself!"

She steps out before she even knows what she's doing. The man blinks at her, startled, but seems no less nervous. She thinks it strange... _she_ should be the one who's nervous, not him. But he eyes her like he's fighting his fight or flight reflex.

"Hello?" She tries timidly.

"...What are you doing out so late? I thought this school had a curfew?" The stranger frowns faintly and a muscle in his jaw jumps erratically.

"I-I'm just late coming back from the l-library," nobody had ever said she was a good liar, she mused. She's simply glad that the man doesn't know her well enough to tell, or to know that if she were coming back from the library she would be coming from the opposite direction.

"Yeah? Well, be on your way."

"I... I saw Harry go in Professor's rooms. Is there something wrong?" She wondered if that were true. What if something had happened and he was getting called to talk about it?

"...Are you a friend of his?"

"Yes, I am," She wrings her hands in a show of concern that was not entirely fake. The other watched her, as if in fascination. She was admittedly very confused when he shrugged slightly and said,

"Well, what do you know? I never would have guessed. He never seemed like the type to make friends very easy, that kid."

"You know him personally?" She asked.

"Not really," He watched the large window that showed out into the grounds for a minute before adding, "Just seen him around from afar. No surprise, everyone has."

"Everyone?"

"Don't worry about it," He looked her way and relaxed just a little, "It's not for little girls like yourself to worry about."

Why would the fact that apparently a lot of people see Harry from afar be a fact not suitable for someone young like herself to know? On top of that, there was a 'supervisor' here to see him, which was a business title. Yet he had sounded so happy when he had seen this person.

There's an awkward silence, filled with Hermione glancing uncomfortably between the door and the stranger. She feels like she should make an excuse and leave, but she's concerned about Harry.

It's not long after that, that Harry suddenly emerges looking a little anxious. He had not been inside long, and she gets a glimpse of an older man's voice before the door is shut again.

"Hermione...?"

0

Harry stares at the girl for a long moment. Did she follow him? Or was she returning from somewhere and had seen him? He could not recall if she had been in the common room when he left. He had been distracted all day, but even more so after dinner.

The Finder explains that she'd been coming back from the library when she'd seen him. She had, apparently, been concerned and had asked said Finder about whether something bad had happened or not. He felt a little stressed now. Besides the fact that something about that story seemed a little off, something he couldn't put his finger on, he felt like she was far too close. It was as if the moment she would see anything connecting him,, personally, to the Black Order was the moment that she would know everything.

Logically, he knew this was not the case. She had already talked to the Finder, after all, even if the Finder wasn't somebody Harry knew personally or well. But stressed as he was, he felt he should quickly hurry her away.

He's not entirely sure how, but she manages to stall long enough by showing concern and asking questions that he hears the door behind him open. He feels the presence behind him before he bothers to look, and even if he didn't know the smell of coffee and the labs by heart, there's only one person who puts his hand on Harry's head like that.

He's Asian, yet somehow tall. He's wearing some kind of uniform... similar to the stranger by the door, yet somehow more embellished. Both men wear the same cross, as if apart of some organization. The new stranger wears glasses, and the hair that Hermione can see from under his white hat seems to have an almost purple shine. He looks at her in curiosity and pats Harry's head absentmindedly.

"Who's this, Harry? A friend of yours?"

"Um... Yes sir. This is... Hermione," Harry answers only reluctantly. She briefly wonders if he's embarrassed to introduce her as his friend, and feels a slight pang of pain before telling herself she was just being paranoid.

"Hermione," The man drawls, "Please take care of Harry for me. I understand that he doesn't seem to understand the limits when trying to gain knowledge."

"He's just... very determined," She replies very meekly.

"Indeed," He laughs softly. He has a nice laugh, she notes, and he ruffles Harry's hair fondly, "Stubborn to a fault."

McGonagall appears behind them both, and fairly ignores Hermione all together as she says, "Have a good night, Supervisor. You, Harry, should hurry to bed. I expect you to rest well and take more breaks from now on."

Hermione notes that the Professor regards the 'supervisor' rather stiffly and coolly. The man hardly seems to notice as he nods a farewell, and she watches as the other one takes his place at the others side.

"You heard her, time for bed!" The supervisor exclaims, "Rest well, Harry."

"Do I have to?" Harry pleads, and it's the first time Hermione has ever heard him do so, "You just got here! Do you have to leave so soon?"

"You know I do," The other smiles warmly, "Everyone misses you, don't worry. Lenalee was very jealous that I get to see you before she does. But look at it this way – next month is Christmas, so you'll be coming home to visit then."

"But that's a whole month away!"

Hermione marvels. She has _never _seen Harry act so freely, so childishly, or so fondly. He has always been so mature, so controlled...

"True, but better a month, than a year."

0

Harry won't talk to her on the way back to the common room. At first she thinks it's because he's angry with her, but then he tiredly says that he doesn't feel like talking much right now.

Before they part, Hermione mentions an observation she'd had on the way back.

"You seem really sad. All the time, I mean, but I never really noticed until now."

"...I guess I'm just Homesick," He admits, rubbing his eyes... she pretends to think he's just tired, even though she thinks she sees a suspicious shine to them, "It's really hard, here."


	5. Year One Three

A/N: There's a quote by Dumbledore here that is taken from the book (Though slightly modified by me to fit better).

Still debating whether I should do anything beyond the First Year. I have 'idea's' for it, the kind done over longer periods of time, but seven years... mmm. That's a lot of writing. Even with the kind of format this story has.

* * *

He finds it completely by accident one day.

It's a large, ornate mirror that has no reflection. He thinks, at first, that it must have some kind of secret purpose if not to show people, but then something flashes across the glass and he sees it.

He sees Lenalee, Lavi, Kanda and himself on platform 9 ¾, as Komui kneels down and fixes Lenalee's skirt and lectures the boys on how to watch over his sister. He sees Lenalee and himself giggling at a school table, and then Kanda and Lavi fighting at the Gryffindor table. He sees the halls of the Order filled not with casualties and Finders, not with exorcists and warriors and scientists, but instead of just people working casually towards a great goal. He sees an empty infirmary and a distinct lack of uniforms, be they Scientist, Exorcist, or Finder.

It steals his breath away. It's knocked right out of his lungs, as if he'd landed flat on his back.

He presses his hand against the glass. Part of him hopes that he could slip right through, that it is a portal to a happier place. It remains stubbornly solid, though, and he's reduced to simply staring.

And he does it a lot. He doesn't even realize how long he's been staring for quite a while. Once he does, he barely tears himself away, and even then, he returns the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. He becomes fascinated with it.

Does it show the future? Is it another universe? It it simply showing him dreams and nothing at all close to reality? It it showing him a possibility? Is it even possible that kind of future may happen?

0

Hermione worries about him. She has ever since he'd briefly lost control of himself after seeing Komui and shown how unhappy he was. How difficult he finds it there. She tries not to nag too much, and he's not too sure he prefers this instead when he gets the feeling that her efforts go towards figuring him out instead.

It kind of figures he'd have to befriend the smartest girl in his grade.

He's vaguely aware that Hermione isn't the only one to notice his extreme distraction and rush after classes are over. Professor McGonagall hints at the talk they had had, about taking breaks and resting sometimes. Even Draco seems to notice that something is not going well for him.

The Slytherin avoids him usually, but other Slytherins aren't afraid to make fun of him. He's a little surprised when the other boy offhandedly makes a comment here or there that distracts the other boys from their harsh words. He tells himself that it's probably not because Draco actually wants to be friends. Not anymore.

0

Dumbledore catches Harry at the mirror after only a couple days. Harry is instantly defensive. He does not want to be torn away from the mirror – he wants to sit and watch the images of his closest friends in a happier time, with no war. But Dumbledore warns him away from it.

"It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have learned to fight in a desperate war, sees those you love untouched by war and pain. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

Harry knows, but he doesn't want to hear it. That Dumbledore even knows what he sees in the mirror feels intensely personal, and he pulls his knees up into his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Is is possible, he wonders? The Headmaster smiles perhaps a little sadly and says, "Who can say? The path of the future is ever changing, Harry."

He wants to demand a more solid answer than that. He wants a 'yes' or 'no'. He wants to see it become a reality.

However, he is warned that the mirror is being moved to a new home, and asked not to come looking for it again. He tells himself it's for the best, but it still leaves him feeling hollow.

0

He writes Home about it. He keeps no diary, but his friends is the closest thing to one he has. He likes to think that he can tell them anything.

Lenalee does not respond at all, which surprises him. He had thought she would have the longest response of them all. Kanda lays off the scathing remarks at his expense to instead say that there is no point wallowing on 'what-could-be'. Lavi tells him that it's probably for the best that he'll see the mirror no longer.

Komui tells him that he is an Exorcists _because_ of that future. _That_ is what they are fighting for, even if that future is for everyone else instead of them.

0

"What will you do for the Holiday break?" Hermione asks him a few days later. He blinks and pauses his writing on his essay for a few moments before he replies.

"I think I'm suppose to go Home."

"You think?" She repeats with a frown.

"Well, sometimes I go other places... why do you ask?"

"Oh, well, I..." She blushes just a little before sticking her nose up slightly, "I'm going home too. I just wanted to know."

"To your parents?" She thinks he sounds particularly wistful there, but then he smiles softly, "What do they do?"

"They're just muggle dentists," She shrugs a little. She's _not_ embarrassed, even if some people might think she should be.

"That's not so bad," He leans back on the couch and looks to the ceiling, "Very peaceful sounding."

"... I suppose so," She gives him a decidedly strange look before shrugging it off, "Though it means I can't have a whole bunch of candy over the holidays."

They giggle together for a few moments before they go back to work.

0

Hermione is there when Harry is approached by Professor McGonagall. They are in the Great Hall, and it is only the day before the students leave for the holidays. The teacher has a particularly pinched look about her today, and she wonders if perhaps he had done something wrong. She looks over the girl that accompanies the Professor – very small, with big innocent eyes and a very expressive face.

She feels Harry go very rigid beside her. But then he's pushed himself out of his seat so fast that if other people had not been sitting on it, she thinks the bench would have fallen over.

"Harry!" The girl launches herself at Harry, her eyes wide with joy. Hermione doesn't get a glimpse of Harry's face, but he catches her and laughs. The laugh is the brightest, happiest thing she's heard from him before. She sees McGonagall look down at them, and for a moment her face shows compassion and a soft fondness... but then she straightens and says,

"Mr. Potter, I'd appreciate it if you would warn me next time that a member of your... household is coming to get you, rather than taking the train like everyone else."

"Oh!" The girl spins, and Hermione thinks that she _must_ be a dancer, "I'm so sorry! That's my fault! I didn't mean to get Harry in trouble!"

"I assure you, Ms. Lee, that he is not in trouble. However, forewarning is appreciated," The stern teacher nodded slightly, "You _do_ have permission to be here?"

"Yes," The girl smiles brightly, and Hermione suddenly notices that they are holding hands, "My brother knows. I gave a letter to the Headmaster from him just a few moments ago."

"So I've been told," The adult glanced Hermione's way before saying, "You've spoken with him. You understand the rules? I expect you to follow them."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Stay out of trouble, Harry."

Then McGonagall left, and Harry seemed so elated by the girls presence that he'd forgotten about everyone else; and quite a few people had not missed Harry's visitor or the warm way they treated each other.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes wide.

"I saw your letter," The girl gave him a 'look', and he wilted a little, "And I wanted to see you. With you gone, we've been really busy at Home. I think Kanda is a little more grouchy than normal because he lost his sparring partner."

She giggles, and Hermione raises an eyebrow. A sparring partner? She recognized the term – used in martial arts, mostly.

"I can stay tonight," She continues, "And then tomorrow we'll leave for Home! That means you have all tonight to show me around!"

"Hey, Potter," Another 3rd year student nearby chuckled, "Aren't you a little young to be getting a girlfriend?"

Harry didn't get the least bit flustered. Instead, he did what he did best, and ignored the other. It did serve to bring him back to reality though, and his eyes alighted on Hermione with realization.

"Lenalee, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Lenalee," He introduced. Hermione, a little stung she'd been forgotten so easily, nodded politely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Lenalee said. Hermione is sure that the other is at least a year younger, but the way she talks is rather mature, even if her voice is not, "Harry told us about you! He said you're really smart and has helped him out a lot with his studying."

Hermione blushed at the unexpected compliment, and even more so with the other girl bowed deeply and added, "Thank you for watching out for him. It means a lot to us."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly, and Hermione turned completely in her seat.

"You keep saying 'us'. What do you mean?"

"Well, us at Home," Lenalee explained, "At the Order."

Harry makes a funny little noise and his face turns vaguely panicked.

"Oh," She blushed in embarrassment, "Was that something I wasn't suppose to say? I'm sorry."

Hermione decides to cut him a break. For now.

"Other friends of yours?" She asks.

"Yes!" Lenalee brightens but Harry doesn't relax. "Kanda and Lavi. And everyone else there too. And big brother, of course. Usually we all watch each other, but we can't do that when Harry is here..."

"You seem very close," Hermione mentions softly, her eyes drifting to their hands and then back. Lenalee blushes a little and Harry shrugs a little helplessly.

"We grew up together," Harry says, and Lenalee adds, "He's part of my family."

Obviously, she didn't mean that literally. She was Asian, and he was most certainly not. Plus the mention of an 'Order', the 'supervisor's' appearance and the uniform he seemed to have been wearing... the mention of 'Kanda' and 'Lavi', whom she's bet were kids too, and who seemed to live in the same place, and yet not be related...

Harry definitely didn't live with his Muggle family, like the books say, and he doesn't seem to live with a family at all. It doesn't even sound like an orphanage. What kind of 'Order' could he possibly be part of?

0

Hermione finds that Lenalee is very curious about everything around her. She can't blame the other girl for this in the slightest, but watching someone else's reaction to Hogwarts is not only amusing, but maybe even a little enlightening. The girl bounces on the heel of her boots and wonders at everything she seems.

The first time the stairs move while she's on them, though, Hermione is positive the girl had been two seconds away from jumping over the edge. As if he'd guessed as much, Harry grabbed her arm before she could do so, but Hermione thought it was rather strange.

0

There are some things that the girl _isn't_ amazed by like she had thought the other would be. The sheer size of the castle, for example, or the suits of armor in the hallways. Both things had been wondrous for Hermione and many other first years. Then again, Harry had never seemed particularly impressed by the same things either.

0

Lenalee has the time of her life looking around Hogwarts. It's amazing, seeing a place that normal kids go to learn. The magical aspect of it only adds to her amazement.

And if she was a little jealous, she'd never admit to it.

The other kids were almost as curious about her as she was them. She sees the people who look down on Harry, the people who look up to Harry, and he meets his friends. She even meets the boy who had seen Harry's Innocence briefly. He avoids her like crazy and seems to shy away from even acknowledging she exists, but she thinks that something in him had recognized her in some way.

0

That night, she stays not with Harry, like she had wanted, but in another room that one of the professors took her to.

Hermione is up late that night, so she knows that's why she catches Harry sneaking out of the common room at a little past Midnight. He's in such a hurry that he doesn't notice her as she looks up Nicholas Flamel. He slips up almost silently, and she wars with herself about what she should do.

By the time she looks out the common room door, he's long gone.

However, when she sits down and tries to focus back on work, despite how much her concentration has been broken, she hears a strange sound. Later on, she things it's the sound of something at high speed, and she looks out one of the windows overlooking the grounds.

She sees two small figures. One dances on green fire in the air. The other watches, directs, and follows on the ground.

She watches for a long time. She doesn't know how that girl could possibly stand in midair with nothing but green fire between her and the ground, but she does. She doesn't know how Harry manages to keep up with her high speeds either, yet he does.

She falls asleep at that window, more confused by her friend than ever.

0

Harry is brightened significantly by his late night romp over the grounds, and he's in higher spirits than he has been since he'd arrived when he says goodbye to Hermione and Neville to head Home.

They don't go straight Home – they stop in a small town along the way, where the destroy two level ones and three people's lives. But when they do arrive, Harry is excited to see his Family.

Komui is waiting for him and welcomes him back with open arms. Lavi grins widely and claps him on the back, making some joke or another about wizards. Harry is so happy, he hugs Kanda before the other even knew what was happening.

Granted, he almost got thrown across the room for that, but it was entirely worth it.

He orders his favorite food from Jerry, who makes it for him extra special, though he doesn't know what the man did to it to make it special besides giving a big portion. Lau Min hangs around his shoulders and chatters at him excitedly, and even Cloud Nine ruffles his hair fondly.

Before grilling him on his studies, of course.

The Finders nod respectively, and the Scientists welcome his loudly. He has to get new measurements because he'd grown a bit over the past few months, and he happily lets them.

0

He's sitting on Lenalee's bed, next to the kitten he'd gotten her. She asks him what magic feels like. He's reluctant to explain, but she insists, and nobody can resist Lenalee for long.

"It feels like something that pent up a long time finally getting released."

"Like anger?" She asks, startled.

"I guess, except more... more like a _thing_, instead of a _feeling_. It's like... like activating the Innocence, except it wants to do whatever _you_ want it to. It _wants_ to be used. And it doesn't feel... sentient, like the Innocence."

"Does your Innocence feel sentient?" Lavi raises an eyebrow, and Harry shrugs.

"Kind of, I think. Sometimes. Doesn't yours?"

"Mine's just a hammer," He replies with a similar shrug, "Hard to get feelings out of something like that."

"I don't know about that," Harry frowns, "What about you, Lenalee?"

She shrugs helplessly, mirroring the both of them, and Harry wonders if it was because both Lenalee and Lavi were a bit distant from their Innocence. Lavi, by choice and Lenalee, by her emotions.

0

Kanda's the only one who doesn't ask him all about Hogwarts and Magic. All he cares about is that Harry has kept up on his physical training which, Harry has to admit, he hasn't done as well as he might have otherwise. It's extremely hard to train not only on your own, but with no teacher to correct your mistakes.

He pays for it with bruises, but he doesn't mind. He likes to think it's how Kanda shows he cares.

0

He doesn't get to remain Home the entire time. He is sent on a mission, but Komui takes pity and keeps it close. He even allows Harry to take a partner, which he does. Unfortunately, his friends are busy, and so he finds himself accompanied by an exorcist he does not know well.

His name is Suman Dark and he's one of the few exorcists who was on expressly friendly terms with everyone, including the Finders and Scientists. Harry has seen the other playing chess with some of the Scientists before, and he finds that the older man is rather kind even to him.

He finds that the other had a family – had, because he'd been forced to leave it behind once he became an exorcist.

He feels bad for that, but at least Suman knew his family was safe, and was working towards that goal. Harry had no one that wasn't at the Order.

0

He wakes up on Christmas morning after having hurried Home to be there on that morning. He's grateful that he has a room with a window – Hedwig is generally allowed to come and go as she pleases, but he'd left it open because he'd sent her out with gifts to deliver and didn't know when she'd return.

Sometime in the night, though, other owls had snuck into his room instead, and he discovered a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed.

For a moment he just sits there in disbelief. He'd sent out a couple of gifts as well, but it hadn't really crossed his mind that he might get something in return.

He'd received a card and a chocolate frog from Neville, and a book from Hermione. He finds that the book is the same one that he'd mentioned wanted when they had first met – it taught how to preserve an objects original condition. He's suddenly glad that he had gotten more for her than candy, like he had for Neville. He also gets a wooden flute from Hagrid, which he is actually very fond of.

He also gets a cloak. The colors are strange, and he's pretty sure it's far too pretty to be of any real use, but the note that came with it mentions that it use to be his fathers. He thinks that that should interest him more than it does, but when he tries it on, he discovers it's true purpose.

An invisibility cloak. _That_ was going to be useful.

0

Jerry had a feast waiting for them for breakfast. There's a mix of good cheer and depressed air around. By lunch though, not even those missing their families can resist the cheer.

There's a couple decorations thanks for Lenalee and a few Scientists efforts, but they can only do so much without magic and with so much other work to be done. Harry enjoys the day immensely.

0

He'd gotten candy for lots of people and more personalized gifts for his closest friends. He has fun lounging around and not doing much for once.

Lenalee's kitten has a ball with the ribbons. It has made itself quite at home at the Order. It had to be very careful to avoid the Science section, but being a magical cat it was smart indeed. Harry swears it can understand him completely sometimes. He notices that a lot of people have taken to it, not just Lenalee.

0

The day after Christmas, things are expected to go right back to normal. It was, after all, one of the very few holidays the Order exerts any effort towards celebrating. It is a _religious_ Organization.

He spends the remainder of his break with his friends. He trains, he studies, he helps around the base however he can. When it finally comes to an end, he feels a little sad, but he also feels energized.

Perhaps it's because some small part of him was becoming fond of Hogwarts as well, or of the few friends he'd made there, but he can't deny that he does look forward to seeing Hermione again.

0

This time, it's Lavi who sees him off. He and Bookman are going to a destination not too far from Harry, and Komui requests them to take Harry there.

Lavi is a friend of Harry's, but Bookman is not so much. The old man always looks at Harry strangely, and he doesn't really like the Bookman policy about remaining neutral... even if he can see the sense in it.

Watching Bookman and Lavi go at it, though, is always amusing.

0

Hermione spots Harry at the train station almost immediately. She also spots his two companions. One of them has the reddest hair she's seen and an eye patch, of all things. She doubts it's real – the boy seems outgoing and loud enough that he would think such a thing 'cool'. It's obvious, though, that Harry is good friends with that boy also.

When they meet up again, she asks him who that had been.

"Who, Lavi? He's a friend of mine."

She recognizes the name, but says nothing about it. Harry seems far more relaxed and happy than before he'd left, and she doesn't want to ruin it.

0

Against what Hermione had thought, that attitude doesn't fade from Harry. At least, not immediately. It does start to slip away eventually, but it goes slowly. He seems far more at ease. The visit to his Home must have helped him more than she could know. Before, it was like he was slowly falling apart. Now, he seemed to have found some kind of peace with himself and his situation, whatever that might be.

She tells him about what she'd discovered about Nicholas Flamel; creator of the Philosophers Stone, which grates immortality and can create gold. A valuable item for sure.

It's pretty obvious then that the item being hidden in Hogwarts is the Philosophers Stone, and she's surprised by just how firm Harry is in his opinion that it's an extremely stupid idea to hide that there.

"Hogwarts is one of the safest places around," She defends, "Where else could it be hidden?"

"But it's not _the_ safest place around," He replies with a shake of his head, "Why would you hide something so highly sought after in a place full of children? Maybe if it were adults here where it could be protected, but most of the people don't even know it's here."

"Maybe," She relents just a little, "But Dumbledore's here. Nobody would try to steal it with him here."

"Nobody except whoever is trying to steal it now, whether it's Snape or someone else."

0

The next couple weeks pass quickly, and Hermione begins to fret extensively over the Final Exams that were approaching. Harry is as relaxed about it as he could be, but her fretting was making it hard for him to remain that way.

Harry decides to ask Hagrid more about the Philosophers Stone. That it's placed in the castle bothers him. He wants to know that it's really as well protected as Hermione seems to think it is.

Hagrid is shocked that they know so much, even though it's thanks to the hints that the man himself has accidentally dropped that they've been able to figure out as much as they have. He agrees to tell them more, but it the privacy of his home, and so moves aside to let them in.

Harry notices he's hiding something behind his back almost instantly, but says nothing about it.

They learn that _all_ the teachers know the Stone is in the castle, and that they are all charged with protecting it. Although only Hagrid and Dumbledore know how to get past Fluffy, the three-headed dog.

Then he shows them the dragon egg he had acquired, which Harry could admit interested him. Hermione thinks Hagrid is mad for trying to hatch a fire breathing animal in a wooden house, which amuses Harry, but Hagrid professes that he's always wanted one.

0

They receive a note a few days later that the dragon is hatching, and Harry is excited to see it. He and Hermione rush to Hagrid's to see it, and soon enough they find themselves looking at a baby Norwegian Ridgeback dragon.

Harry knows, thanks to his studies, that raising a dragon on ones own is illegal. He mentions as much, but Hagrid tries to wave it off. Harry doesn't want to force his friend to get rid of it when he so obviously adores it, but the moment that he witnesses Draco Malfoy outside the window, he knows that the chances are slim.

He doesn't think the Slytherin would tell if Harry would threaten him not to, but he wavers on whether or not he wants to do so. He doesn't like threatening people, and he'd already done as much to Malfoy before. He doesn't think its all that smart to raise a dragon without the proper precautions either, and Hogwarts certainly doesn't have them.

Such as a lot of space and not possible casualties. There's no way Hagrid will be able to keep the dragon a secret for long, even without the threat of Malfoy over his head.

0

He takes his time trying to convince Hagrid to find the dragon a better home. 'Norbert', as the dragon had been named, would not have the space to grow, among other things. Hagrid does, eventually, agree that the best thing for him would be to find him a better home, but he refuses to look for one himself. Next thing he knows, Harry's in charge of finding a place for Norbert, or risk Hagrid getting in quite a bit of trouble.

He looks, he reads about dragons... and then he gets an idea.

The Scientists are suitably crazy anyway, and the Order does have plenty of sky surrounding them... would it even be illegal when the Order is muggle and thus doesn't go by magical laws and regulations?

Hermione says that it probably doesn't work that way, and is he sure that's a good idea? He grins and says that it's worth a shot.


	6. Year One Four

A/N: I still haven't decided how long this will be yet, but thanks to everyone who told me their opinions on the matter. It's kind of strange – when I bring up the last chapter to look at where it ended and where it began, I see just how much time seems to kind of pass between them.

I was also unsure as to how to handle Draco before – I like Harry and Draco friendship a lot, but he... well, he really isn't a very good kid. So I was kind of leaving it up to the story, who fills in that third spot where Ron use to be. In the end, it thankfully started to take care of itself. Although, now I'm contemplating something else – Harry has connections to the Order (As an exorcist, obviously), but I was thinking about making... _other_... people have connections too. A family member here, a newly turned exorcist there... (Okay, it's mostly the exorcist thing I'm contemplating. Or a Finder thing. Still, other people connected to both parts besides just Harry. And possibly, in the future, having Hermione have a deeper role besides just as a friend who 'knows' about Harry. And I'm not talking about romance.)

* * *

Komui really does call him crazy and there's even a note from Cloud Nyne at the end of the letter. '_I may have been a beast tamer, but I am no miracle worker_,' it says. Harry grins a little – he had not been told outright that it wouldn't work. He hadn't even been told 'no'.

When he tells Hagrid, there's a flash of _something_ across the half-giants eyes that he can't identify. It did not seem to be a happy emotion, though, and he waves it off thinking that it had something to do with depression over being forced to give up something the man has obviously wanted for a while.

He continues to work at Komui. Lavi thinks it's a splendid idea and Kanda scoffs at them all, as usual, even though Harry thinks that if there's any animal the swordsman could like, it'd be a dragon.

0

Draco shows no signs of having seen Harry or the dragon. He doesn't seem threatening or much of anything. He simply ignores Harry, as per usual.

This isn't acceptable because Harry knows better than to leave anything to chance if he's at all able to do otherwise, so he waits after Potions class until the Slytherin is exiting between his two goons. The blonds face is vaguely amusing, but then he goes and tries to put up a brave face, turning his nose up and trying to walk around Harry.

"I want to talk to you, Draco," Harry announces. Crabbe and Goyle look suitably suspicious.

"I have no desire to speak to _you_, Potter," Draco replies somewhat firmly.

Harry's first thought is to reply a little threateningly – he's actually very good with subtle threats, but he's already resolved to avoid them if he can. But he's not sure how else to get the other to talk with him privately without forcing him into it.

"It's important," He tries again, "I'm sure you don't want me following you around everywhere. What would the Slytherins think, you being hounded by a Gryffindor?"

Okay, so that's a bit threatening... but it's harder to avoid doing it than he thought. It was more playful anyway. Malfoy eyes him while his two bodyguards step forward menacingly. Harry doesn't _not_ notice them, but Kanda is taller than both and could probably throw them both across the Great Hall with little effort, and that's not even thinking about what Cloud Nyne and Lau Min could do.

"What do I get out of it?" Draco finally asks, and Harry raises an eyebrow slowly. Perhaps the other wasn't quite as intimidated as he'd thought. He's not sure if he believes that's a good thing or not.

"What do you want?"

"... Answer my questions, and I'll listen to what you have to say," Draco tries to look tough, but Harry has seen monkeys look scarier. He thinks about pointing out that he doesn't _have_ to be nice about it, but then he hears Lenalee's voice in his head, scolding him. So he sighs and holds up two fingers.

"Two questions. Just two; no more, no less," He frowns slightly, ignoring the way that Draco's 'friends' look rather dumbfounded by the turn in conversation, "Take it or leave it."

"Fine," The others reply is actually quick... perhaps too quick, if the way he blushes in faint embarrassment is any indication.

Ah, Harry thinks. So he was just going to take as much as he could get, if anything at all. So the other had been thinking about 'things' more than he's thought... He hopes that the other doesn't get too creative or intuitive with his questions.

0

In an empty classroom, empty of all life but Harry and Draco, and they eye each other carefully. Harry expects difficult questions like 'What was that thing from before' and 'Why do you have it'... things like that. They won't be fun for him to answer, especially since he never picked up that useful kill of avoiding spilling valuable information or dancing around the truth, like Lavi is so good at. But he'll answer them – out of everyone in the entire school, he thinks that the few things Harry might reveal would be the safest with Draco.

Not because he trusted the other boy, exactly. But Draco was no Lion, and he was not self-sacrificing. He would not go telling information to anybody except maybe his father, and even that was iffy. Lucius Malfoy was powerful and rich, but he had little to no reason to look into Harry, and even if he did it merely on his son's request, Harry is confident nothing will be found. And there is not much Draco could even do with the information.

While, the adults could. And someone like Hermione tended to say the wrong things at the wrong time, or to jump to the wrong conclusions... or simply not understand. Draco doesn't need to understand to keep quiet. Hermione feels the drive to understand, and if she doesn't, she'll go to great lengths to figure it out.

"The books all say you live with your muggle family," Draco starts, "But that's not true, is it? So, then my first question is this: Who, exactly, do you live with?"

Harry is quiet at first. It was a surprisingly good question to ask, and he's already feeling uncertain about being so nice about the whole thing. Slowly, he responds.

"They aren't my family by blood, but I still think of them as one. It is not a home in the traditional sense... Many people live there," He pauses, trying to think very hard about how he says it, "They are all muggle, and they all strive towards a common goal. That's all I can say."

Malfoy is quiet, absorbing it. Harry is a tiny bit unsettled because he sees a tiny bit more than the cowardly, spoiled little boy than he's seen up until now. He tries to shake it off.

"About what I wanted to talk to you about-"

"You said I get _two_ questions."

"Let me talk first, to make sure you hear it all instead of getting your questions and running away, Draco," He crosses his arms uncomfortably.

"_Could_ I run away?" Draco only mutters it, but Harry hears it and they both appear surprised for a few moments.

"...You can get your other question afterward," He adds after another moment of silence.

"Fine. What is it then?"

"Will you tell on Hagrid?"

"...That's all?" Draco exclaims incredulously, "You're letting me ask questions you don't even want to answer just because you want to make sure that stupid oaf doesn't get in trouble?"

"Hagrid has been nothing but nice to me ever since I got here," Harry defended, "Would you want one of _your_ friends to get into trouble?"

"But, you seems so protective of your privet life... letting me ask anything, twice, just for that?" The other eyed him with a scowl, "You're definitely a Gryffindor."

"It's because I was trying to be nice about it," He rolls his eyes and hops up on a desk, "It's not like I _couldn't_ have dragged you in here or threatened you into it. But unlike some people, I try not to use that against people if I don't have to."

"And there's the difference between us," The Slytherin leans against another desk, relaxing, "I would be able to do whatever I wanted. Why hold back if you don't have to?"

"Then I guess it's a good thing you don't have any such power," Harry hides a smile grin behind a hand, "I'm sure you've heard that saying about heroes."

"I don't want to be a hero," Draco sneers at him, shaking his head, "Who would? I don't understand people like that. I want to live a long, rich life. Heroes usually have short, poor ones. What's the point?"

"If you don't understand _that_, it's no wonder you are how you are."

"I could take offense in that," He glares faintly, which amuses Harry.

"You could, but where's the fun in that?"

"Why must you look so amused?"

"I know somebody who likes to glare like that," He chuckles, "But he's a lot better at it."

Draco's hand twitches and his glare intensifies.

"What's your second question, Draco?" Harry straightens. He wants to get the questions out of the way as soon as he can. He's rather annoyed when the other sticks up his nose again and says,

"I think I'll save it for later."

"Can't you think of something? I'm sure you've thought of plenty to ask. Maybe I won't feel like answering if you don't ask now."

"Would your bloody Gryffindor pride allow you to break a deal?"

"You know," Harry starts slowly, "Unlike the others here, I don't define myself with 'Gryffindor.' I define myself as something else. And that something else doesn't mind breaking the rules of a deal that we never particularly set up rules for in the first place."

Harry thinks that the other boy might be looking at him rather appraising then. He wonders what caused the other to loosen up so much. Before, he barely looked his way. In the hall, he had even been a little shaky. Now he seemed back to his haughty self.

"I suppose if you're not lost to the Gryffindor's, I can see that," Draco says, "Fine then."

"What's got you so confident all of a sudden?" Harry asks with a slight scowl of his own, "You could barely look at me without shaking in your shoes before."

"Malfoy's don't 'shake in their shoes'," Draco snaps, "And isn't it obvious? If you're so 'nice' that you went through all this for the oaf and didn't even bother trying to threaten me into it; What are the chances that you're going to do something... irreversible?"

Harry goes quiet. Was that really what Draco was afraid of? What kind of life did he have, that he would assume Harry was really going to 'make him disappear' for simply ticking him off?

"Now," Draco continues, "My second question then: If you don't define yourself as 'Gryffindor', then what do you identify yourself as?"

"...That's it?" Harry twitches, "You could have asked -... Out of all of it, you'd pick something like that?"

"I think it's a perfectly valuable question," Harry frowns, because if Draco thought so, then he probably had a different objective that he'd have thought, "So answer it."

He doesn't answer at first, and when he does, it's under his breath. The other tauntingly asks him to repeat himself, louder, and so he does.

"I said 'Exorcist'," He says firmly even though inside he's faintly panicky.

"'Exorcist'?" The other echos in confusion, "What, like the ones that exorcise _ghosts_? Is that why Binns has been so awkward around you?"

"I said two questions," Harry pushes himself off the desk and dusts himself off, "So no more."

0

It doesn't hardly leave Draco's mind for several days afterward. He goes as far as looking it up in the library. He finds nothing on the term 'exorcist' that seemed fitting that he didn't already know.

His first thought had been to ask Potter about those things he saw, when they had fallen from that broom. Then he realized that two questions was more limited that it appeared, and decided to change tactics. Instead of asking about _what_ those things were, or how he'd gotten them, or why he had them, he wanted to know about Harry himself. So he asked about his home life.

After that, he decided that he really wouldn't be surprised if Potter would refuse to answer question later. And he'd been hit by a bolt of genius. Harry was serious; mature. He really did 'define' himself with _something_, and whatever it was, it wasn't something that could be avoided or danced around. What could Harry possibly define himself as? He obviously had attachments outside of school, and Draco knew he'd find nothing if he looked into it – his father already tried months ago.

One day in the library, he looks up and sees a pair of blue eyes watching him. Dumbledore smiles down at him benignly.

"Researching for a personal project, perhaps?" The headmaster asks in a distant way that Draco hates very much. Stiffly, he replies,

"Something like that, yes."

"Studying things that interest you is good indeed," The old man smiles, "though it seems you've chosen quite the topic. I had not been aware you held interest in such an area."

He glances down at his pile of books; All of them on ghosts, exorcism, and the myths and legends about exorcism.

"I did not," He shifts uncomfortably, "It's nothing."

"Perhaps you should look a little further," Dumbledore says, "It's hard to find relevant information in the old books sometimes, don't you think? Reading between the lines if very useful. I find it's helpful for people too."

After Dumbledore is gone along with his puzzling words, Draco looks down and finds a new book on top of all the others – new in the sense that it hadn't been there before, because it certainly wasn't 'new'. It fact, while it was actually a very thin book, it was incredibly old. It was dusty, yellowed and stiff.

There was no title, but inside he found that it was from a couple thousand years ago, the oldest book he has ever held, and is indeed about exorcism.

0

Harry wonders on how to transport the dragon, for awhile. Acquiring a port key or any such magical item was pretty much impossible, and nobody in the Order could fly on a broom. Transporting it manually between Finders is not a good idea.

So he decides to do it himself.

He gets Hermione's help on the directions and manages to convince her to cover for him. The only reason he's successful is because he promises to tell her about it all when he sees her next.

The air is still freezing and he's glad that warming charms are one of the first things that he learned in his extra studies. He keeps Norbert in a leather bag, thanks to Hagrid, and doesn't tell anyone that he's planning to fly to Britain on a broom, all by himself. Norbert is given something special to make sure he sleeps throughout the ride.

Unfortunately, he still wakes up near the end of the trip, and begins trashing about in alarm.

Harry barely calms the baby dragon down, and he's not sure how to _keep_ it calm – it seems to be fascinated enough with its surroundings, though, that it stops making such a fuss and calmly watches the lights pass below them.

He doesn't see any of his friends, in a hurry as he was, and his teacher scolds him as well as Komui; He guesses that she feels partly responsible for the new pet Harry has brought home, though she doesn't want to take care of it.

It's a good thing that she's up to the challenge, though, because he's pretty sure that as much resources the Black Order has, it's going to need Cloud Nyne and Lau Min to keep it in check.

0

He arrives back to Hogwarts a little while before lunch, and finds Hermione looking somewhat anxious. She scolds him for being gone so long, and demands to know if he'd been gone _all night_.

"It wasn't so bad," He reassures her, "I probably couldn't have done it without your help, Hermione."

"Don't try to butter me up!" She snaps, flushed, "That was _against the rules_! You could get _expelled_ for that!"

"That would be why I asked you to cover for me," He flashes a tiny smile, "Calm down, or people will get suspicious."

Her mouth snaps shut with a loud 'click,' but she still ignores him until they sit together at lunch and she listens, with pursed lips, to his tale of crossing back to Britain.

"So..." She does gain a thoughtful look after a moment, "You live in Britain?"

It was his turn to snap his mouth shut. After a moment, he decides that there was no use getting super defensive about it – most of the students live in Britain too, after all.

0

Unfortunately, somebody happened to notice Harry's absence. Harry guesses that Neville probably only mentions it as an off-handed thought, but it reaches the wrong ears. McGonagall finds him and questions him on his whereabouts the night before.

And Harry does not lie if he can help it.

So he tries to merely make it sounds as if he'd done nothing wrong, which while he knew was technically not true, if anyone was an exception to the rules, it'd be him. McGonagall sees fit to point out that he is not, and glares down at both he and Hermione.

"You may be here with special circumstances," She near rages at him, "But that doesn't mean that the rules don't apply to you! Any number of things might have happened, do you understand that?"

He doesn't say what he's thinking; that he'd have been fine. Even if he'd have crash landed he wouldn't have died, and the Order had contacts in all sorts of places.

Hermione feels horrible and exclaims that she'd known about it... It earns them both detentions, and Harry scolds her afterward for her unnecessary heroism.

0

He's surprised when he finds himself lined for the detention up alongside not only Hermione, but also Draco.

The Slytherin looks away and denies doing anything wrong, but all three of them are lectured about being out and about past curfew and breaking the rules in their own ways. Hagrid won't tell Harry what Draco had been doing, but the other boy wasn't as tight-lipped as he'd like to think. In a burst of indignation after some teasing, he admits he'd tried to sneak into the Forbidden Section of the library. After hours, at that.

"You?" Hermione blinks, startled, "Why ever did you try to do that?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Granger," Draco sneers at her, "But I needed a book there. Obviously."

"Enough of all tha', now," Hagrid interrupts, "Lemme tell you what we're doing', alrigh'?"

0

Harry finds that venturing into the Forbidden Forest is less a punishment and more of a secret trip he had no say in whether he was going or not. He hasn't really gone in before, as he has had no need, but he can't deny that he's curious about it.

Hagrid hesitates how to divide them up at first because they are an uneven number. Draco refuses to be partnered with Hermione, which annoys Hagrid, and in the end Harry goes with Draco and Fang to search for unicorn blood.

0

They search for a while. It's just as they are getting rather bored that Harry sees it – a gleam of silver. He doesn't know what unicorn blood looks like, he supposes that he had assumed it'd be red like everything else, but Draco almost slaps him on the back of the head for nearly not mentioning it.

He's faintly embarrassed that he had assumed, but they find that the blood leaves a clear trail, which they follow. Through a curtain of trees, they find a unicorn laying dead in the center of a small clearing. He goes to step toward it, only to be stopped by his partners shaking hand.

From the bushes, a figure _slithers_ out, seemingly floating rather than walking. Harry thinks he can hear a faint humming in the air, and it doesn't seem to notice them at first. It goes to the unicorn, lowers its head, and appears to begin drinking from the large wound in the mythical horses side.

The pain hits him almost like a physical blow. His first panicked thought was that somebody had been lying in wait and had attacked them. That he has been wounded by some unseen force. It takes a moment for him to realize it centers in his scar, and he doesn't even remember dropping to his knees.

The figure sees them then. It rears up, and Draco makes a small sound of utter fright. Fang doesn't even try to growl or bark, he simply backs away with his tail between his legs. As it approaches, Harry tries desperately to center himself, trying to push the pain away and get a hold of himself.

Draco stumbles and falls. The lantern he had held falls and breaks; the light goes out. His eyes are dilated with fear, his body paralyzed.

Then there's a flash of green that briefly lights up the clearing, and his vision is blocked.

0

Harry can barely think past the pain in his scar, but he's had quite a bit of practice with fighting through pain. He moves without thinking. He's sure that this creature is no akuma, but his Innocence is the best weapon he has. He stands before his partner and pretends that he doesn't feel a damn thing in his head.

The creatures freezes to a halt. He gets the feeling it's staring straight at him. In the lull, Draco snaps his wand up and red sparks fly up above the trees. Next thing Harry knows, there's a centaur leaping out above them, rearing up at the creature threateningly. The black thing flees.

0

The centaurs name is Firenze, and he claims that only a creature as desperate as Voldemort could have fallen so low as to drink unicorn blood. He warns them, tells them to run from the forest. Draco has no qualms with this, but Harry does.

"Come, Harry Potter," Firenze leans down, offering his back, "You must get to safety as soon as possible."

There are two other centaurs, and they are visibly affronted that the other would offer his back to a human. Harry turns the other down through force of habit, and when he hears Hermione shouting his name, he quickly tries to deactivate his Innocence.

Firenze claims that he has read the stars and that it's the positioning of Mars that drives him. Harry isn't into astrology, but he appreciates the help.

Hermione and Hagrid are both uncertain when they stumble into the woods. The last words Firenze says before leaving are,

"You are gifted by the Heavens, Potter – _chosen_, in more ways than one. Do not let your heart get confused by your wars."

0

Draco is disgruntled when Hermione tries to corner him the next day. He calls her a Mudblood and tries to leave. As visibly upset as she is, she does not leave or let _him_ leave.

"I want to know what that green light was, from before. I know I saw one."

"What, and you thought you'd ask me?" He snorted, "Ask your precious Potter, Granger."

"I did," She twists her shirt and looks down, "But he says that it was only a spell."

"What makes you think he's lying?" He's actually genuinely curious.

"Because," She snaps, "He's just like that. He won't lie about anything but himself, if he can help it."

"Have you ever thought that maybe he simply doesn't want people getting into his business?" He rolls his eyes and sneers impressively at her, "Nosy Gryffindor. He's your friend, not mine."

"If he's not your friend, then you shouldn't mind telling me," Her eyes narrow, "Unless he's made you swear not to."

"What could he possibly have on me that would threaten _me_ into silence?" He pretends that the idea is utterly impossible and not the truth, "Go on, Granger. I've got nothing to say to you. If you want to get caught up in his business, that's your ordeal."

"'Caught up in'?" She repeats slowly, "What else do you know?"

"I already said I'm done with this. Go pester somebody else."

"If... If you tell me everything you know," She speaks slowly, carefully, and it makes him pause in leaving, "Then... I will tell you what _I_ know."

Silly Gryffindors, making deals with people less honest than them, he thinks.

0

Harry notices that Hermione seems to have found something with which to occupy her attention that isn't him. He doesn't really mind until he catches her sneaking away from a table that Draco Malfoy had sat in, inside the library.

The fact that she was taking the other seat almost just after he left wasn't odd, but the way she looked nervous and a little twitchy was. He sneaks up behind her, pretending to be browsing the books as his gloved hands slide across the bookshelf.

He catches a glimpse of a note that she pulls out from under the table. He doesn't know exactly what it reads, but it looked like a book title.

"Hey, Hermione," He greets. The way she jumps and nervously greets him seals it – she's up to something.

0

He blames his scar for his being less alert and more watchful. It continues to hurt long after he leaves the forest. It was as if that creature had awoken something that seemed hell bent on twisting his head up in knots. Komui is concerned, and he goes to the nurse as suggested. She finds nothing wrong with him or his scar, though, besides the fact that it's inflamed and a little raw.

Dumbledore catches wind of it and requests to see; Harry lets him and feels as though the headmaster knows more than the simple 'hmmm' that he says.

Meanwhile, Hermione is frazzled to the extreme as she continues to divide her time between studying frantically for finals and whatever else it is she's up to. Harry still doesn't know what it is, besides that it involves Draco. It's actually faintly alarming – Draco wouldn't spend any free time with Hermione unless he was getting something very valuable out of it.

She denies that it's anything important and deftly changes the subject to the exams. He only lets it drop because he knows it's only fair.

0

Draco Malfoy is arrogant, egotistical, and a bully, but Hermione knows no one else who has gathered as much information about her elusive friend. She's not stupid. She doesn't spill her guts with everything she knows. She goes about it as a 'fact-for-a-fact' kind of thing. She knows more than he does, and when he realizes it, she's sure that it's the only thing that causes him to stick around for their slippery communication.

Except it turns from sharing stories to joint research. Draco's book is amazingly valuable, and the first time she looks at it she's amazed. He refuses to say where it's from, but she decides not to care.

The book has preciously little artwork, but what it does have is very beautiful even through it's yellowed pages and the cracks that run down them.

There is one picture that catches her attention – a tall, black, tower-like castle that sits atop an even taller mountain.


	7. Year One Five

A/N: Sorry it took so long – I've been super into my new game and it's hard to drag myself away to do anything else. Even though I have already beaten it once and am very close to a second one. Thankfully, it has a lot of replay value.

Look at that. Lucky number seven. And am I the only one having trouble replying to reviews? It gives me a 404 outdated link error every time I click to reply. Thus, I have to go the long way around, going to my stories and going to the review section to pick the one to reply to.

* * *

The pain in his scar will not fade. Harry can not forget that there is _something_ wrong, even if he wants to. He's good at ignoring pain, but it is a constant presence. It wears at him on and on and on until he is starting to loose his patience. Madame Pomfrey can not find out the cause, and if Dumbledore knows anything, he's keeping his mouth firmly closed. Sometimes he feels like the old wizard is simply _waiting_.

He just does not know what for.

0

Hermione is not oblivious to Harry's declining mood and patience. She wonders about his lingering pain, but there's little she can do. There is no headache medicine, muggle or magical, that seems to help him. Every once in a while, he becomes short with her and intolerable to everyone else. He admits once that it's less the constant pain that is driving him up the wall, and more that he does not know where it comes from. Pain usually means something bad – your body's attempt to yell at you to 'stop' what you're doing because it's possibly harmful to you.

The fact that there may be something wrong with him worries Harry more than Hermione thought normal. It is not in a childish way but something more.

0

Out of everyone who may notice what she's doing and say something about it, Hermione had not expected it to be Neville.

Granted, the boy got along with Harry relatively well and they had talked often towards the beginning of the year. He doesn't seem to be particularly close with anybody. He still pulls her aside one day and asks her if Harry knows that she's been researching him.

She defends herself and down plays the work she's done to figure the other out. Neville frowns at her and seems to obviously disapprove. Before she leaves, he says, "Harry is really private and secretive, Hermione. I think you should feel lucky he let you know as much as you do. If you're not careful..."

It's the first time she's heard him speak firmly and without stuttering. She leaves, and pretends she doesn't feel a little guilty as she does so.

0

She brings it up to Malfoy, of all people. She feels very unfortunate that the muggle-hating Slytherin is pretty much the only person she can talk to about Harry. She has to be careful doing so, of course, but he's the only one who seems to want to know what Harry is hiding as much as she does. Admittedly, he seems to want to know what he's hiding for more than simple curiosity.

"Nosy?" He repeats her incredulously, "Of course it's nosy, Granger! Don't tell me you thought prying into somebody else's closely guarded secrets was simply some sort of challenge?"

"No!" She shoots back, "But... I don't know. Maybe he keeps it secret for a good reason?"

"I don't doubt that," Draco rolls his eyes and shrugs, "I'm _Slytherin_, Granger. I just simply don't _care_ if he's got good reasons or not."

"That's horrible," She glares at him.

"And yet here you are, sitting across from me and trying to do the same thing. What do reasons or intentions matter?"

0

She thinks that maybe she's been trying too hard. Some of the things she's read from that mysterious book Draco had found sounds nearly impossible and outlandish. A secret war? Impossible. There's no way that an entire war could be 'secret', not on the scales the book describes. Creatures created from the souls of the dead? It's been proven that you can't bring back the dead in any way, shape, or form. A small handful of 'warriors' to protect the world? Hardly. Especially when it's a _muggle_ war.

There's also the fact that she is starting to become self-conscious. Draco is, as she has established several times, not the nicest or fairest of people. If she is working on his level... does that mean she's sunk down to being the same?

0

Final Exams are a breeze for Harry. Even with his stabbing pain constantly distracting him. After all the fuss everyone puts out about them, he's very glad when they are over. His mood is only minimally improved though, and Hermione mistakenly believe that one of the reasons he's upset is because he does not feel he did well on them. He assures her that isn't the case, but he allows himself a little time to relax in peace.

0

Everything always seems to come back to Voldemort for Harry. It is why most people look up to him. It is why he's famous in the Wizarding World. And he's beginning to think it's the reason his scar just won't leave him be. The dreams being pushed on him are a big clue, though, and every time he dreams of the evil Dark Wizard, the feeling that he's missing something grows.

It's extremely frustrating. He doesn't _want_ to be sucked into any kind of altercation with the other, even if he did kill his birth parents. He doesn't want to loose his way or forget what he's even in Hogwarts for. He just wants to complete his school years in peace and put the skills he learns there to good use.

He does end up asking Hagrid again about how he'd won that dragon egg, though. And because of that, he learns that the half-giant _had_ slipped up and spilled the way to get past Fluffy to somebody else. Just as he does to Harry – music puts the three-headed dog to sleep.

He's not stupid; he tells Dumbledore about it all. The Headmaster watches him with twinkling eyes and says, "The stone is safe as long as I am here."

Before Harry leaves, though, the old man adds softly, "Although, if I am not..."

He says nothing more and Harry frowns but lets it go.

0

Harry realizes what the other had been trying to hint at when he feels a spike in his pain and goes to find Dumbledore after particularly bad nightmares and feelings.

Only to discover the old wizard is no longer at the school.

0

"Harry, you don't even know that was what he was trying to hint at," Hermione tries to reason desperately as she hurriedly follows his startlingly swift pace through the halls alongside Draco, who had been with her when Harry had come stomping in, "You can't honestly think he wants you to go doing something like that."

"He's always had ulterior motives," Harry snaps, his hands balled and his eyes narrow, "No. That's incorrect. It is more like he simply has a plan for me, and he's trying to make sure I follow it."

"I know he's always had... a particular _interest_ in you, but he wouldn't ask you to go into something so dangerous, Harry!"

He rounds on her, shoulders set, and in a deadly calm voice says, "Did I ever tell you that Dumbledore tried to kidnap me when I was seven?"

That stops them both in their tracks.

"...W-what?"

"I don't know what he wants from me," He turns and starts along again in the same, swift way, "But living anywhere but with my muggle relatives was not in his plans. When he realized that he couldn't do anything about it, that I would not be the same boy he had expected me to be when I came here... That I wasn't going to go recklessly jumping into whatever mess he's trying to get me to clean up..."

He doesn't even finish. Hermione is itching to ask him to, but it's Malfoy who drawls, "So what? You're going to fall right into this supposed scheme of his?"

"I might not want to go along with him," Harry replies coldly, "But he knows I can't just sit still and do nothing either."

"Why not?" Malfoy demands, "Whatever you _think_ Dumbledore wants from you, other adults wouldn't expect it from you. It's _their_ job, not yours."

"I don't know if this could be considered my job or not," Harry says wryly, "He _is_ suppose to be dead..."

Hermione almost trips over herself and Draco's eyebrows shoot up. They had not thought Harry meant the traditional term of 'exorcist' when he'd said it, but if that had something to do with dead people or those meant to be...

0

"You're crazy," Draco snaps, "_I'm_ not going. You can go get yourselves killed if you want to."

"But Malfoy-" Hermione is cut off by Harry,

"You should both stay here. I probably won't be very long."

"And _there's_ the reckless Gryffindor courage I've been waiting to see," Draco sneers, "Who else but Harry bloody Potter could think they're going off to fight with the Dark Lord and not worry about dying? Or even _curfew_."

"I'm getting tired of all this Gryffindor-Slytherin crap," Harry rolls his eyes as well as his sleeves... then pauses and throws off his cloak, "Think whatever you like. As long as you don't go telling people."

"Who, me? I'm no tattletale, Potter," Draco pauses at the look he receive from both his companions, "Alright, well. You can't prove it, at least."

"You can't do this on your own, Harry," Hermione pleads, "What if something happened? _What if_? Nobody would know until it's too late."

"But if you go, then I'll have to watch out for you and you'll probably get in the way."

She has to hide the sting of his words. No matter how business-like his tone is, she does not like to think she'd get in the way. Harry is smart, but she's smarter.

"If you don't take us with you...I'll... I'll..." She fishes for something to say, to threaten, "...Then I'll tell McGonagall what you're planning."

Harry stares at her sharply.

"'Us'?" Draco exclaims, "I said I wasn't _going_, Granger!"

"Unless you find yourself indisposed for the rest of the night," Harry shoots back, "One good thing about magic is that it's a lot easier to simply knock someone out."

"Did you study how to make _sure_ I remain unconscious the rest of the night in your extra studies?" She glares fiercely, "If you want to take that chance..."

0

She's not surprised when he tries to sneak out two hours before the time they'd agreed on. He scowls and glares at her for her stubbornness, but has to accept that she's outmaneuvered him. For now.

Draco is where they had agreed to meet up, just as early as Hermione had warned him about. She had convinced him to do so, promising that he did not have to come along. They simply needed him to do one thing for them and then he could go. She suspects that he only agrees because he doesn't want to be completely left out of whatever big adventure this is.

He pales at the sight of Fluffy. He looks as if he might flee; he might have, if Hermione did not shove Harry's wooden flute into his hands.

"What is this?" He demands.

"Music puts it to sleep," She explains, "We just need you to make some music until we're inside. Then you can run."

"I wouldn't _run_," He flushes, embarrassed, "I don't even know how to play a bloody flute!"

Harry opens his mouth in annoyance when the creature realizes they're there. It begins to waver, though, when music begins to float out of the end of Draco's wand.

"Think more like a witch, you stupid mu-"

"Unnecessary," Harry cuts him off with an elbow to the ribs. He internally lets the would-be insult go, if only because the Slytherin is obviously quite frightened.

Hermione drags Malfoy along with them as they edge around the sleeping dog and carefully nudge aside it's paw. The trap door squeaks a little but the creature doesn't seem to hear. Harry jumps down first, and after a moment calls an okay from the darkness.

Draco, who had kept his eyes on the giant three-headed dog, does not expect the harsh shove he receives into the hole.

0

"What in the _bloody hell did you do that for_?" Draco practically screeches at her after they land.

"You're not the only one who can play dirty, Malfoy," She fumbles for her wand.

"You realize that now I have to watch _him_ now too, right?" Harry sighs, exasperated.

"I _swear, when we get out of here_-"

"You need more than just me to watch you, or you'll end up doing something stupid. I just know it."

She can pretty much feel his glare after that. She's not sure she's thankful or not for the distraction when the floor starts to move.

0

Harry thinks the 'Devil's Snare' is very ironically named, and he doesn't really appreciate the irony. While it wraps around him, tightening it's grasp harder and harder, he vaguely wonders why it never occurred to him that there might be more traps beyond Fluffy.

It's rather stupid of him, when he thinks back on it. It does not help that though he can recognize the plant from Herbology class, he's not entirely sure what to do with it. Draco gives out a tiny, choked scream that sounds rather funny to Harry, but he's fallen into warrior mode and feels an almost abstract sort of concentration focused solely on his survival instincts.

Before he can start wrenching free and destroying it, Hermione hisses at them to stop moving. Draco is not as receptive to the idea as Harry is. Which is why, by the time Hermione has fallen through and thrown up an artificial sun to cause the plant to shy away, Draco falls heavily and has to take many deep breaths to catch the air that it had been squeezing out of him.

"You scream like a girl," Harry mentions in an off-handed sort of way as he stands from the crouch he'd fallen in.

"On of these days – Potter I swear – You and your bloody -" Malfoy gasps between breaths.

"I could take offense to that," Hermione almost shakily brushes herself off while Draco pulls himself from his embarrassing sprawl on the floor.

"Well, you didn't scream at all," Harry pauses for a moment, "That's refreshing."

0

Harry spots the key with the broken wings almost immediately. While he eyes the room for anything dangerous, Malfoy sullenly points out the broom the was there. It was as if someone was daring them to try and catch the key. Or just making it easy.

Draco is the one with the most experience on a broom. As much as Harry had enjoyed his time on one, he doesn't know that he has enough skill to catch the key, and Draco brags enough about the lessons his father had given him.

Harry decides that it's not as easy as he had first thought when all the keys seem to turn to attention. Some seem to attack Draco, some flee. Harry calls to catch the one with the broken wings while the Slytherin curses rather impressively under his breath.

Hermione frets a tiny bit. She fires a couple spells at the keys but the chase is so fast that it's really rather hard to avoid hitting their companion as well.

To all of their annoyance, once Draco actually _caught_ the key, they all turned on them. Draco practically skids off the broom, running for the door with wide eyes. It takes a moment to stick the key in the door and turn it, and as soon as he turns to shout at them to hurry their bloody arses through the door he witnesses the wave of winged keys slamming into Harry's protego.

0

"What?" Harry frowns as Draco stares at them as they leaned against the door in the next room.

"...That was a spell that's a few years ahead of us yet," The other stares some more.

"I told you he does independent study," Hermione grouses.

"...Just how much have you two been talking about me, anyway?" Harry asks with another frown.

"...Is this a giant chess board?"

"That's a horrible way to change the subject, of course it's no-" He looked around, paused, rose and eyebrow, "...Why is there a giant chess board in here?"

0

"Who in their right mind would make a trap out of a chess board?" Harry complains under his breath as he seats himself on a knight.

"Dumbledore, apparently," Draco takes the king piece, "I always knew he was a bloody wanker-"

"Draco!" Hermione snapped, "And why are you taking the king?"

"Because I don't want to die, Granger," He snaps irritatedly, "I'll only get hit if we loose, and we better not loose."

Hermione huffs and takes the place of a rook.

Harry briefly wonders if he could get away with just destroying all the pieces, but then the game begins.

0

Draco likes chess, Harry's skill is merely from practice with Lavi and Suman Dark, and Hermione is surprisingly bad at it. Harry collaborates with Draco on the moves to make, ignoring the cold sweat on the back of his neck. He quietly wishes that Lavi or Bookman were here. They would have wiped the floor with the stupid chess pieces and Lavi probably would have struck a funny face at the opposing king, making the whole mess that much less tense.

Or his teacher. Cloud Nine was very intelligent for a beast tamer in a circus, if the way she kept up his studies were any way to go by. Then again, she would not have let him be there in the first place.

He's glad Draco took the king, but he worries for Hermione, who most certainly couldn't destroy opposing pieces when she needs to. Or so he thought, before she blasts one apart and gives him an impatient look afterward.

0

Unfortunately, Draco and Harry are not expert chess players, so when it comes down to the endgame and they have to make a sacrifice to win, it's not a surprise. It's not really a sacrifice he's willing to make, though, when it's Hermione standing in the way. Even Draco hesitates.

She calls the move herself and Harry curses her for it. Draco does too, later, insulting her stupid Gryffindor self-sacrificing tendencies.

The opposing piece slashes right through Harry's protego but thankfully lands at Hermione's feet, rather than in her body. It still sends her from her feet, though, and she doesn't move when she lands. The rubble from the small crater lands about her feet and Harry's blood freezes for a moment.

So when he's positioned across the opposing king, he doesn't much care Draco is still there and destroys it with his Innocence. The sound and the tiny pieces it makes is rather satisfying.

0

Hermione is dazed but otherwise unharmed. Harry worries she might have a slight concussion, but Draco argues that surely her hard head saved her from such an injury. She mutters under her breath at them both and swears off chess.

0

The next room holds naught but purple fire, a table of potions, and a riddle. Harry's is rather proud to note that he and Draco figure it out very quickly, and he does not doubt Hermione would have done the same if she could think but a little clearer.

He decides to cut their adventure to an end. Hermione is possibly wounded and Draco is not the brave sort. Hermione is not in the state to clearly argue, and Draco is not willing to.

Harry swears to be careful and makes the Slytherin promise that he will do the same while getting Hermione back to the medical wing quickly. Before they part, Draco says,

"You better not die, Potter."

"When I finally die, it definitely won't be because of some wanna-be Earl," Harry ignores Draco's skeptical and confused face.

0

The final chamber holds a mirror and a certain turbaned teacher.

Quirrel tries to bind Harry with ropes. Harry is swift and dodges, suddenly alarmed, but lets himself be captured the second time. They are but normal ropes and easy to free himself from whenever he would chose to do so.

Quirrel likes to talk, he finds. He mentions how Snape was an easy scapegoat since nobody really likes him, and how he hates Harry but hates Harry's father more, for they had gone to school together. Harry does not particularly care, if he were to be honest. He remembers what he had told Snape, though, and wonders if his father has anything to do with why Snape hates the world, if he really has carried a grudge so long.

The teacher admits his connection to Voldemort, saying that when he had failed to steal the stone from Gringots, "he punished me ... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me."

"He's suppose to be dead," Harry shoots back, eyes narrowed.

"_In body, perhaps,_" A voice from Quirrel hisses.

"Once the body dies, so do you."

"_Yet I am here,_" The voice replies, "_There is more to life than a body, Potter_."

He thinks that this must be some sort of trick. It would have to be. There is only one person who can affect the dead.

"Who tried to bring you back?" He demands, "And why... why would the Earl put you in a body with someone else?"

"We know of n-no Earl," Quirrel frowns a little, "L-Lord Voldemort is not so weak to have been k-killed by a baby, Potter."

"_Let him see_," The voice slithers through the air, cold and strange to Harry's ears.

And so he watches as the turban is unwrapped, revealing the face on the back of the others head.

0

Akuma do not affect a body in such a way. There can be only one soul to a body. The Earl is the only one who can bring back the dead. These things run through Harry's head at high speed, over and over. His only explanation is that Voldemort never died – but that somehow he attached his soul to something else before he could truly die. Thus, there would be no akuma and no Earl, but he's not really wiling to believe that. No matter how much the other denies knowing an Earl.

Quirrel forces him to stand in front of the Mirror of Erised, asking what he sees.

"Nothing you would care about," Harry holds his head up high as he watches Komui patting his head and Lenalee smiling widely at him. "What do you want with the stone?"

What else would he want, but eternal life? Voldemort laments on his lack of body, claims that there are always those willing to share with him. Those who would open their hearts and bodies to him. About how he's had to use Unicorn blood to keep himself alive.

The thought of what the Earl might be able to do with such an object highly frightens Harry. Because the Earl is an enigma, because nobody knows what his real plan or goal truly is, it's hard to say what he'd do with it.

Perhaps imagining that is what causes him to want the stone. He wants to _destroy_ it, to make sure nobody else can use it, least of all Voldemort or the Earl. When the image swirls and he suddenly sees his reflection dropping the stone into his pocket, and feeling the same, he quietly wonders why. He tries to remain focused and not give any signs that he has it.

One look at what remains of Voldemort, though, and suddenly the other seems to know.

"_Kill him! Kill Potter! He has it! He has the stone!_"

0

Whatever Voldemort or Quirrel was expecting, it is not Harry breaking the ropes that still bind him. It also isn't the flare of green fire and the appearance of what Harry's knows is his Innocence.

"_What kind of power is this_?" Voldemort demands angrily.

"One _you _could never have!" Harry exclaims, falling into a fighting stance he feels very comfortable in.

Perhaps the problem with his training is that he naturally prefers his physical training rather than his magical one. It never occurred to him that when he would get into an actual altercation he would nearly forget, completely, that he even owns a wand. Still, the burning effect was new.

His head is killing him with the pain, he can't hardly think straight. He's glad that he has long learned fighting instinct and that he doesn't need to think to be able to punch somebodies lights out. Still, he has never before burned somebody by touching them.

Touch turned his head into a world of pain. No matter how badly Quirrel is burned by it, Harry doesn't think that pain in return is a fair trade. Still, the teacher seems to have taken a leave of his sense and does not go for his wand. He tries to grab at Harry at first, and Harry's first thought is 'capture', followed by 'pain'.

When he grabs Quirrel, he does so with no intention of letting go. He cannot effectively capture the other without contact, and he cannot let him go. He simply wants the pain to stop, but he cannot let this... _creature_... go.

He cannot.

He will not.

0

He does not realize, at first, when Quirrel turns into ash. Even then, he stumbles for a while, confused, looking around through bleary eyes. He stumbles, falls, then forces himself up and starts tumbling towards the exit. He hits somebody he doesn't recognize, and doesn't remember hitting the ground.

0

The first thing he sees upon awakening is Dumbledore's face. It is old and wrinkled, as usual, and he swears the others eyes twinkle more than usual.

There is much concern expressed, but Harry doesn't particularly care to hear it.

"You wanted me to go after the stone," He accuses.

"I did," He had not expected the other to admit it so easily.

"Why?"

"Because you are the one meant to oppose Voldemort, mister Potter," Dumbledore looks a bit sad, then, clasping his hands together, "He could not even touch you, as I'm sure you noticed."

Harry frowned, slowly sitting up. The hospital wing is as he remembered it, and empty other than them.

"Why couldn't he?"

The explanation is farfetched. Harry is not sure he believes it. His mothers love? Perhaps her sacrifice, for it is a terrible and powerful thing in many cultures and powers.

"And the stone?" He asks.

It is being destroyed, he is told. Nicholas Flamel and his wife are ready to move on and shall do just that, so that the stone and it's dangerous powers may be forever taken from this world.

"And Voldemort?"

"He is neither dead, nor alive," Dumbledore says gravely, "As he is now, he can cause no harm. He will continue to attempt to return, I'm sure. But for now, he is gone."

"There's shouldn't be anything between 'dead' and 'alive'," Harry grips his bedsheets, "There is only akuma. But I don't think that's what he was."

"I doubt he received any help from the Earl," The other shook his head gently, "Magic can be great, and it can be terrible. It is powerful in all aspects. He has not yet truly died, and so he is not beyond life."

"I don't want any part of your war with him," Harry shook his own violently, "Stop trying to manipulate me into your troubles."

"I'm afraid that hardly anything is as simple as you might think it is," The Headmaster smiled gently, kindly, "You are a wizard, Harry, and this is as much your world as the one you believe is yours. If you try to ignore him, you will fail."

"Then he can come to me," He snaps.

Dumbledore gives him a small, sad look. As if he feels bad for Harry, as if he knows life and the things it hold far better than he. He hates it. It makes him feel small, as if he really is a child. He is not a child.

Or so he keeps telling himself.


	8. Year One End

A/N: I had unexpected inspiration to start this chapter almost right after the last. I held off because I didn't want to burn the story out – which would suck for almost everyone, I'm sure.

End of Year One! Awesome. I _think _this chapter is slightly shorter than normal. Not sure though. My keyboard is being a major pain.

Also, IMPORTANT! I figured I should make a note here because several people have asked and though I've told them the answer, I realized I made a slight miscalculation. Allen would, I think, show up in the equivalent to Harry's SIXTH year, not his fifth. Because he is Lenalee's age, and thus a year older than Allen, and Allen doesn't show until _he's_ fifteen, so...

* * *

Being in the Hospital Wing at least gives him one thing – plenty of time to reflect.

It bothers him. The trials he had gone through to reach Voldemort in the end were all, for the most part, things that he _might_ have been able to get past on brute strength and force alone, and even that was no guarantee. In fact, he bets that the chess pieces magically regenerate when not engaged in a game or destroyed according to their rules. It would explain why they had been there at all, despite Quirrel going through before him.

The plant, the keys... he could have destroyed what he needed to get through. The riddle he could have figured out on his own. The chess game... If he had been alone, there would have been no casualties at all, though Hermione had apparently only suffered a severe headache for a few hours.

But he can't shake the feeling that he could not have done it without Hermione and Draco, even with his brain going through and deciding that _yes_, he could have. Probably.

0

He decides that it's because it had been such simple traps. If it had relied more on magic and the bindings that it could create, he doesn't think he would have made it to the mirror. He doesn't know if Dumbledore did that on purpose or not, but he hopes so. If that was his serious idea of an effective defense, Harry was liable to tear his hair out in frustration _long_ before he's even _close_ to graduating.

Still, he's extremely grateful for his companions help, whether it had been given willingly or not. He tells them as much when he sees them next.

0

He's a little surprised that Hermione had the guts to drag Draco along, and he's even more surprised that Draco lets her. Draco moans about how the muggle-born is trying to ruin his reputation while Hermione lets out more snarkyness than Harry thought she had.

Hermione blushes when he thanks them honestly, and tells him to remember that he's not alone. He knows this, but he doesn't really count anyone in the magical world among those who stand with him. Looking at her, though, makes him think that if his responsibility were any less dire and altering, he would not have minded counting her amongst them.

Draco acts high and mighty, sneering and bragging as Harry thought the other would. Still, there's an earnest shine to his eyes, and he seems startlingly eager to talk about the events. He embellishes on the story and his part in it, but he doesn't ignore them either. He admits, grudgingly, that Hermione wasn't useless and that Harry wasn't as much of an idiot as he had thought. It takes a few moments for Harry to realize that Draco is, quite simply, proud of himself. He also is enjoying being acknowledged by others, especially by Harry.

And he finds himself rather having fun listening to their banter. It's almost peaceful.

0

Hagrid is crying. He's crying very loudly and very wetly and very... awkwardly. Harry doesn't like seeing people cry, let alone someone as large and rather tough looking as Hagrid. He watches for a moment while the other apologizes profusely for slipping up and getting him in danger.

When he stops, Harry slowly raises an eyebrow and holds out a chocolate frog.

Hagrid takes the peace offering as Harry promises that the other need not blame himself and that, really, wasn't it strange that a tiny handful of eleven year olds could get so far anyways? He manages not to scoff at how people seem to think of Hogwarts as one of the safest places out there, but it's a close thing.

Hagrid gives him a present. It's a book full of moving photographs. It takes him several moments to realize that he recognizes those eyes, that nose, those hands. He seems little bits of himself in the people he sees there and knows he's staring at his birth parents.

There's one tiny twinge too many. He thanks the half-giant for the thoughtfulness of the gift, resolving to look later (if at all) and trying not to show how awkward it made him feel.

0

He enters the Great Hall all on his own. The release was a little early and he had not felt like bothering Hermione to fetch him.

The eyes still don't bother him. The look in them is a little different, as is the intensity. He realizes why when he sits next to Hermione and she tells him that _everyone_ had some kind of idea of what had happened.

That... almost ruins his day.

He doesn't want people to know. He doesn't want them to hang off him and expect things that aren't his job. Things that would distract him from his _real_ job. He doesn't want them to look at him at all, really, but he doesn't have much of a choice but to accept that one.

Still, he ignores them all like he always does and tries to pretend that he has no idea why everyone whispered about him or watched him when they thought he didn't know they were looking.

0

He's glad that Dumbledore doesn't try anything... unnecessary. If he had done something as unfair as to, say, reward last minute points to Gryffindor for something Harry knew had been against the rules (And probably should have gotten in _trouble_ for), he would not have been happy. Then again, as Ron so grumpily pointed out, Slytherin was way to far ahead of them. They had won the Quidditch Cup and most of the matches. The points that had awarded them along with the matches Gryffindor lost meant that they were way too far ahead.

Gryffindor comes in last, but Harry is the one who minds the least of all. Draco gloats and brags about that too, which Hermione finds highly annoying.

"Let him have his fun," He tells her in amusement, "It's when he's seriously being a brat that you should get upset."

"How can you tell the difference?" She mutters, her eyes flicking to the Slytherin and thn back to her plate, "Him being a real 'brat' and him just being himself seems the same to me."

"There's probably not that much of a difference," He chuckles, "But it's enough to know that he doesn't really mean most of it."

"Most of it," She repeats, rolling her eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that the part where he thinks he's the best is an exaggeration," He grins a little, "But, well, everyone can dream."

0

Hermione makes him promise to write. He does promise, feeling strangely... touched... by it. He has never, _ever_, had 'normal' friends before. Not even before he joined the Order. Keeping such large secrets from her made him feel bad, which was quite the difference. It bothered him more that it _does_ bother him, really, because before he knew he had to, he had no choice. It was his responsibility. But if he felt bad not tell her, well...

She seems a little unsure on how to approach Draco, who also has a bit of awkwardness about him. There has been several Slytherins who had some sharp comments about the Malfoy's choice of company, but he has been surprisingly resilient towards them.

Harry isn't sure why he hasn't just announced that 'this is it' and ended their strange connection. That was what he had expected the other to do. He decides to try and push his luck a little.

"Will you write?" He asks bluntly as they are lounging out front in the grass.

"I wasn't aware you wanted me to," Draco turns on his trademark sneer, "Should I feel honored?"

"As amazing as I am, if you feel that way, then I won't blame you," Harry jokes halfheartedly. He's still getting a hang of joking in such a way, "Just know that I'm not giving you a lock of my hair for any shrine you might create."

"...What?"

The look of utter befuddlement that Draco gives him is worth it, and he laughs.

"... Nobody actually did that, did they?"

" …. Let's just move on, shall we? So are you going to write or not?"

0

Even Draco isn't sure why he hasn't left yet. He's not deaf to the remarks of other Slytherins and he's not blind to the looks they give him. He's pretty sure that the only thing saving him is Potter's reputation, and Granger's is probably canceling even that out.

'As amazing as he is?' He thinks in vague amusement, 'As if.'

He can trust in Harry's patterns, his reactions. He's pretty sure that Harry is the only person he knows that can joke in such a way and mean none of it. Not even a little. He's seen himself how little the other cares for other peoples opinions and thoughts. How little the other cares to be manipulated. How independed he is. It's like he second guesses everything he hears. Draco found this mildly insulting in the beginning. It seems like his knowledge or opinion was being _constantly_ questioned.

It took him a bit to realize the other boy simply meant to question it for himself and not because he doubted it. It is... interesting, really, and when he finds _himself_ asking more questions than normal, he blames a certain someone's influence.

Still. Mailing was... Well. He supposed he would wait and see what happens.

0

Harry arrives at the train station in one piece. His first year over, finally. An entire year gone by. It seemed strange to think about.

When he sees Kanda and Lenalee waiting for him at the station, his heart almost leaps out of his throat. He wants to jump out of the window to hug them both. He had missed them even more than he had realized. He's not surprised Lavi isn't there, but he'll take what he can get.

Lenalee and he meet in the middle somewhere, hugging tight enough that a normal person probably would have found it more painful than comforting. She laughs and welcomes him back so brightly that it almost blinds him.

Kanda isn't really a touchy person and probably had been coerced by Lenalee into going, but with the way he was feeling, Harry wasn't going to take no for an answer.

He supposes that when he gets punched for it it's no surprise. But he takes the fact he's punched in the shoulder instead of the face as a sign that Kanda was feeling tolerable, which in itself was almost equal with a hug. He grins and laughs and remembers he hadn't come off the train alone.

0

Hermione recognizes Lenalee. So does Draco, though he remembers her more as a plague he had tried very hard to avoid.

Looking at the two, Hermione picked up the fact they were Asian, just like that other man who had visited. Strange, certainly. Draco, however, was pretty sure that whatever Harry was, these two were also.

The boy was very fit, very tough, very intimidating (Though the Malfoy in him balked at the word). The girl... harder to believe, especially considering how _small_ she was, but Harry seemed very close with her. That was enough to convince him. Besides, the two wore very similar, strange uniforms, though he could only tell by the quick flashes of silver from under their cloak.

0

Lenalee greets them both enthusiastically, and Kanda ignores them both. Hermione, knowing Harry doesn't live with his muggle family, asks where their 'guardian' is.

"Oh," Lenalee's smile falters for only a moment, "He's waiting for us outside."

Harry knows she's lying, and she's not any better at it now than she was when he'd last seen her. He knows Hermione knows by the slightest narrowing of her eyes, but she doesn't question him on it. It surprises him, but he's glad she doesn't say anything.

Draco leaves first, and rather hurriedly. Then Hermione's parents find them.

0

They are a very nice pair. They have a professional air about them even here, but the way that their shoulders are relaxed and the smile that reaches their eyes and makes them shine is more than enough proof they are happy to see their daughter.

Hermione has her father's smile – it is quick to appear and slow to leave. Her father has the same quiet, withdrawn air about him that makes Harry think of him as very independent and self-suffecient. Her mother seems to be the softer of the two, the piller to her husbands authority and stubbornness. She seems to take the lead in most things, but should Hermione's father speak up, both mother and daughter seems to default to him. He has a soft strength to him. Harry wonders if Hermione will be the same one day.

They are both very kind, and ordinary, and Harry is caught surprisingly flatfooted by them. They're dentists; even if he hadn't known that beforehand, he would have been able to guess by the way they subtlety check his teeth. They seem amused by the way Hermione talks about school, but proud nonetheless. They smile and introduce themselves to Harry, and then to Lenalee and Kanda. Lenalee becomes rather shy, and Kanda obviously wants to be anywhere but there.

Their meeting doesn't last all that long. The air of 'normal' that seems to leek from both muggles rather puts him at ease, somehow. Hermione reminds him to write again one last time before they part.

0

He doesn't know the Finder that had accompanied his two friends, but the Finder knew of him. It's no surprise, really, but what _is _surprising is just how he reacts to it. It seems more noticeable to him... More obvious. He's lost some of that buffer, that uncaringness, about being regarded the way he is. He's still use to the stares, but he finds it very obvious – the difference between the quiet awe of students and children, and the solemn appraisal of the men and women of the Order.

Lenalee is more than happy to hear about his year at school. Kanda meditates and ignores them all. The Finder doesn't even sit with them and so doesn't really have an opinion either way. They don't go straight home. They detour a little, stopping by a small town that seems to be in the middle of nowhere and stuck a good couple of decades back in time. It's a sleepy little town and the people there look at a strangely dressed man with three kids with tense trepidation. There is one akuma there that doesn't even try to hide for very long, but no Innocence.

Kanda parts with them there, off to do another mission, and so they continue home.

0

Harry has missed it even more than he had realized. Jerry's cooking is amazing and while his bed may not be quite as soft or comfortable as the ones at Hogwarts, he rather prefers it over the other one any day. It does make his back ache a little, having grown use to the fancy, plush ones back at school, and he thinks idly that he really had been spoiled over the year.

He doesn't realize quite how much until he's back at the mercy of his teacher.

0

He supposes that it's nice that Cloud Nyne no longer has to worry about his studies very much. Still, that just means that much more time is being put into his physical training. He has indeed fallen behind some. He had kept up his exorcizes and stretches as much as he could, but there's nothing like a giant monkey to put you through the ringer.

He needs it in order to get his sharper reflexes back. It doesn't make it any more fun though.

0

He meets his fellow apprentices that summer. One he had met previously. The other was new.

Sol Galen was quiet and preferred solitary company. He was also older and more experienced, and past the point in his career where he had to stick closely to his teacher for training, though obviously that doesn't mean he stopped learning. Harry has always been content to leave the other alone, especially as they didn't see each other very much.

Tina Spark, though, was far more interesting. She was very self assured, and she wasn't above cracking a joke now and then. She was a young adult, old enough to feel far older than Harry but young enough to be barely considered an adult by the older members of the Order. Harry thought she was pretty, and nice, and overall a very interesting person. He could see little chinks in her armor though – she wasn't taking the exorcist thing as well as she would have people think.

They trained together. She was careful not to let her frustration show as she realized how much more skilled Harry was than her, and how unlikely than would change anytime soon. She didn't like loosing a fight to a kid so young, even with no Innocence activated.

Lenalee was distantly polite, while Kanda actually rather dislikes her. Harry's not sure if Lavi actually has a crush on her like he sometimes acts, or not. He's pretty sure the Bookman Junior is acting, though. Komui ragards her as kindly as he does every exorcist, and Harry is aware that with the way things are, the bubble around her would keep her from any friendly acquaintances for a very long time.

Still, he's not all that great at making friends with others.

0

Due to his business during most of the year, the Order has to make as much use of him as possible during the months he is home. Because of this, he finds himself being sent on mission after mission. He doesn't mind, really, though the tightness he feels towards the beginning does worry him a little. He starts to notice that he receives no letters, not even from Hermione, who had been adamant that he promise to send his own and that she would do the same in return. He's not sure if he should feel hurt or unsurprised.

It weighs on him more than he felt it should. He asks Komui if maybe Hedwig had ever been intercepted or some such thing, but his supervisor knows nothing of it if it is so.

He receives his answer to the mystery on none other than his birthday.

0

He stares blankly at the house elf sitting on his bed. He has never seen one before and would not know that was what it was if it ('_He, it was a _he_, somehow'_) had not introduced himself as one. It was called Dobby, and it had come to warn him of some great danger that was encroaching on the following school year. Of course, Harry wasn't very concerned.

"Mister Potter mustn't go," Dobby insists, "Mister Potter must live!"

"Dobby," Harry says slowly, "Whatever danger you think is waiting for me, I have to go anyway. It's not any safer here anyway. In fact, it's the opposite."

Dobby obviously thinks that he doesn't understand the situation, that he is underestimating the warning. Harry is annoyed for the simple fact that Dobby is not understanding that whatever danger might be at Hogwarts was no worse than marching off to fight akuma all the time. Dobby is forced to leave very suddenly when somebody knocks on Harry's door to announce a new mission.

0

It's a small thing, but Harry isn't forced to leave for that mission on his birthday, and he's glad of it. He does leave ridiculously early the next day, though, ready for the week long trip he is taking along with Tina Spark, who is being sent along on her first mission. She has improved very quickly over the months she had been training before Harry had returned, and she was going to fill a more supportive role this mission to play it safe.

They have to hunt for the Innocence carefully, checking out some old rumor about a witch in the woods and a magically disappearing and reappearing lake that prolongs the life of those who bath in it. Harry and Tina comb the woods and find no such lake, and have to do a lot of digging to see if there are any supposed requirements.

They find none, other than the fact that those who seemed to randomly disappear into the woods come back not remembering anything, let alone if they ever witnessed such a thing.

0

Dobby returns in an abysmally bad time, and Harry would kick the house elf if he didn't know the other would gladly do it himself.

Of course, the creature certainly didn't expect to appear and barely miss being shot at by monsters even he has never seen. He squeaks and disappears again, reappearing at Harry's side and tugging at his coat, eyes impossibly wide.

"Not right now!" Harry hisses as he tries to tug himself away, "You're in the way!"

"Mister Potter will die if he stays!" Dobby's voice is far to high with fear, and when he disappears again with another _pop!_, he takes Harry with him.

Harry, on the other hand, thinks that he might have seriously hurt the house elf if anything bad had happened while he is gone. As it is, he's almost beside himself with panic as he thinks of Tina, who hadn't been doing all that great, all by herself amongst the nest of akuma's that had uncovered. After all, turns out that all those who had lost their memories was because they had been turned into akuma, and there had been more hiding in the forest.

Dobby, for the first time, is more afraid of Harry than of his owners. It only lasts a few seconds, and he's left a little dumbfounded as the young wizard takes off at high speed.

0

Harry has never in his life been so grateful before. Dobby had only brought him a little ways away. If he had been stuck someplace far, if that village had been destroyed and Tina killed, he's not sure what he would have done. As it is, several villagers die and Tina suffers severe injuries. She is lucky she was never grazed by a bullet and died. He knows that Dobby appears half way through, and he's angry enough that he doesn't even try protecting the area the other hides himself in. He just destroys, and destroys, and he doesn't even realize that he had a broken arm until he notices that it's not moving and he has to use more will in his Innocence to make it move without the power of his muscles behind it.

He wakes in a the infirmary several days later. He does not even remember the trip home, unconscious, wounded, and angry as he was. He receives an extreme scolding from his teacher and suffers trough it with a deep frustration on his face the whole time.

"It's alright," Tina tells him from her bed across from his, "I saw that creature take you away. It's not your fault. It was pretty ugly though, never seen anything like it."

Neither her jokes nor her forgiving attitude make him feel better.

0

When Dobby appears again, Tina is asleep and the medical wing otherwise empty. Harry can do nothing but glare with all his might.

Dobby meekly apologizes and asks what was going on. Harry doesn't have the will or the patience to explain anything other than 'It's what I do'. The house elf tries one last time to make his point, but Harry won't hear of it.

"The only way you could keep me safe," He starts though gritted teeth, "Is to lock me away somewhere. These injuries are nothing. My _life_ is danger. Hogwarts is no different, apparently, and if you do that again I swear..."

Dobby leaves a pile of letters by his bed, and the anger he feels at the other for having intercepted and kept his mail is balanced by the relief that he wasn't forgotten.


	9. Summer Break

A/N: I know, I'm a horrible person. I should be burned at the stake and so on and so forth. I didn't mean to take so long to update, honestly! I've found it so very hard to write ANYTHING lately, and I went through a long period of being completely creatively bunk. I wouldn't say it's over, but I do feel bad for taking so long so update I shall. I have, at least, spent some time 'studying' some other writing. I might be a little rusty, but hopefully I've picked up a few good things too?

I honestly can't remember several of the ideas I had for this story anymore. I thought about just doing one more chapter and ending it, but I keep hearing that anybody who wants to be even partially serious about writing should _make_ themselves write _something_ everyday, whether they want to do it or not. And it might as well be this, for now, since I have nothing better going on. (Though I would eventually like to do a DGM story since I can find epic stories for almost anything except DGM, it seems). Hard to do with the manga's pace though.

I made it extra long for you, to try and make up for the long absence even a little ^^; Apologies for any mistakes. I've tried to be careful due to my keyboard making things harder than normal, but I know I probably missed a bit.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stares at the letter for a while. When he notices that his grip is creating wrinkles, he quietly sets it down on his desk and smooths it out almost thoughtfully.

He has sent Harry Potter three letters since the end of the school year. None has been replied to, until now. According to the other boy, his letters had been interrupted by a third party claiming to be trying to save the famous young wizard by convincing him not to return to Hogwarts. Draco, normally, would scoff and wonder who the other thought he was if it weren't for the fact that the third party was the House-elf, Dobby. Dobby, who belonged to the Malfoy's and was probably doing chores in their household at that very moment.

There was no question that his father has _not_ given Dobby permission for his stunt. Lucius Malfoy had no reason to want Harry not to return to school this year. Even if he did, he would not send that particular house-elf. Dobby was not exactly the most subtle; he was not even the most loyal, though Draco hadn't realized how true that is until now.

He supposes it has something to do with loopholes. The other has not yet, technically, done anything specifically against the rules. Still, he can feel the stirrings of curiosity already.

0

"Whatever took him so long to reply?" Lucius asks at dinner when Draco decides to sneakily inquire about Harry and Dobby.

"He says his letters were interrupted," He explains, carefully avoiding making a mess as well as not to speak with his mouth full. His mother is the picture of grace and elegance as she hums a little.

"He is famous," She inclines her head a little, "It is no surprise. Although, it seems a little strange to me that his security does not prevent that."

"Indeed," Lucius sniffs a little disdainfully, "But then, if it is organized by the Ministry, we all know that Fudge is incompetent. What else did Potter say, Draco?"

Draco avoids mentioning that he knows for a fact that Harry's security is nonexistent and that the Ministry probably doesn't even know where the other boy is housed. Instead, he noncommittally shrugs a little and replies, "Not too much. He apologized profusely and said that the problem has been fixed."

"Good, good. Did he say who, exactly, was the cause of the disturbance?"

He hesitates. He never lies to his father, but admitting the truth could ruin his own half-formed plans. He really wants to use this whole thing to his advantage – his father would be far more concerned with punishing Dobby, severely, than in helping him figure his companion out. So he opts for discreet truth.

"He did, but it was nobody important," He pauses, then adds for further distraction, "He mentioned that he visited France last month, briefly."

"Did he now?" Lucius is probably just humoring him, but that's all Draco wanted anyway.

"Perhaps you should invite young Potter over this summer, Draco," His mother offers. He is surprised by how good an idea that sounds.

"I agree," His father refills his goblet and inclines his head towards his wife for just a moment, "I would like to meet the boy."

"I will bring the idea up to him," Draco goes back to eating and his father takes up the conversation again.

0

Dobby is staring at him like he sees death. It is vaguely disturbing, though perhaps a little gratifying to know someone so small fears him so.

"I-I-I," There are tears in the house-elf's eyes just before he abruptly starts slamming his head on the floor at Draco's feet. It wails, a sounds that plainly hurts his ears, and in between its sobbing he can catch garbled words. Apologies, exclamations about what a bad house elf it is... nothing Draco cares about.

"Alright, I got it, cut it out," If anything, the crying only gets louder. He tries in vain, to order the other to stop and stay still, but it's as if he's not even being heard.

"Knock it off!" His foot on the top of the creatures head stops the banging, and in the pause that follows, he snaps, "I said stop. I never told you to punish yourself."

"D-D-Dobby is very sorry, Young mister Mal-Malfoy, sir," It wheezes, it's nose pressed painfully against the ground.

"Good. When I move my foot, I expect you to do as I say. And you will not start that horrible racket again. You will answer my questions. Understood?"

It tries to tearfully nod, but cannot. So it lets out a pathetic sound of agreement instead. Thankfully, it does not start punishing itself when it is free once more.

"So, you _did_ go to see Potter," Draco muses, staring at the creature as it flinches its gaze away. "Why?"

"Mis-Mister Potter is in danger, sir, and he should not go."

"Who gave you that idea? Who even said that was your decision to begin with? Did my father ask you to do this?"

"No, sir, Master did not ask Dobby. Dobby went on his own. And Dobby knows that Mister Potter is in danger, Dobby heard-"

Silence. Its playing with the edge of its pillowcase. It really is rather pathetic, Draco thinks, as he steps forward menacingly. It immediately is prostrated before him, bowing for forgiveness.

"Dobby cannot say, Dobby is a bad house-elf!" It wails again.

"Why can't you say? I am the heir to this household, there are only two people you answer to above me, house-elf!"

"A house-elf cannot give away a Masters secrets, Dobby is horrible-"

He doesn't want to listen to this gibberish or the crying, so he orders the other into silent once more. So. His father had not ordered Dobby into silence, but as the thing had said, house-elves cannot tell their Masters secrets. His father did not know that Dobby knew whatever he did, and Draco could not ask, not could he demand it from Dobby himself.

But what could his father possibly be planning? If it was indeed dangerous, was it meant specifically for Harry,despite never having met the other boy, taking into account his only vague interest of earlier? Or was it meant for Hogwarts? He frowned, then tilted his chin up.

"Listen Dobby, here's what you're going to do..."

0

Harry held the kitten up above his head as he lay on his back. The kitten stared at him perhaps a little flatly, as if to say 'And the point of this is...?'

"You should have seen it," Lenalee giggles from her place at the edge of his bed, "I think Bookmans face was as red as Lavi's hair. I don't think Lavi will ever live it down."

"When does he ever?" Harry smiled wryly, bringing the kitten down to rest on his chest. He loved petting it. It's fur was so soft, and it was so small... Hedwig would always be a little more special to him, being his very first pet, and the kitten isn't even his, but he was is becoming rather fond of it. Lenalee tosses him a slight smile of her own as she nudges his knee.

"What about you?" She asks, "Surely you embarrassed yourself a few times while you were away. All those strange magical things and all..."

"If I did," He replies mischievously, "I guess you'll never know."

"No fair!" She pokes him rather harshly in his ribs, "Tell me!"

"Nu-uh," He grins and makes the kitten wave at her dismissively, "No way."

"What if I tell Komui to get you to tell me?"

He knows shes just kidding, but he can't help but tease her a little, "But then you'll have to mention, or at least I will, that when you were trying to blackmail me into telling you embarrassing stories, you happen to be in my room. With the _door shut_."

He fakes a horrified gasp. She blushes a little.

"I think that would backfire more on you than on me," She points out.

"Maybe, but you wouldn't get off scott free either," He wags a finger at her, "But fine, fine. There was this one time when I was learning how to use a quill-"

A loud POP and there was a rather annoying, and familiar, house-elf standing in the middle of his room.

Followed by a _long _few seconds of silence.

"... I don't know if I should kill it, or scream," Lenalee's voice is a little tight as she stares at the very strange, and rather _ugly_, thing standing before her. She gets a rather strange look on her face when it bows so forcibly at her feet that they both hear the crack of its head hitting the ground.

"Please don't kill Dobby! Dobby is sorry for disturbing mister Potter and mister Potter's friend!"

"...Harry," They lock eyes for a moment and he notices the slight blankness of her face, "... It's talking."

"So it is," He can't help but be a bit amused, really, even if he is annoyed by the creatures return, "But don't kill it. I don't think, at least. What are you doing back here, Dobby?"

"Dobby is so glad mister Potter asks!" The house-elf looks up rather hopefully, and nervously, and Harry can already feel the headache forming between his eyes.

0

As much as some people might rather appreciate having someone follow them around, willing to do anything they might ask, Harry finds it more annoying than anything. Dobby doesn't say who sent him, in fact claims it was by his own choice, but Harry isn't so sure.

The other shows up as little as possible around other people. As well he should, because they're all muggles anyway. Most of them are still ignorant towards where Harry has gone the past year, and will go again in just a couple months more time. His every whim is pretty much tended to, really, and even his room is kept rather clean. Granted, it's never all that messy anyway, but even just walking in to a spotless floor, clean sheets, and made bed is fairly nice. He's forbidden the other to follow him when he's not at the Order, as he's already realized it was quite impossible to get the creature to leave for good.

He's just glad that the house-elf doesn't whisk him away and lock him up somewhere the next time he sees Harry wounded, home from another mission.

0

The ground is shaking and he rubs the back of his neck rather nervously. He can hear a sort of growl not that far away; it's not that loud, but nonetheless threatening. He finds the source easily enough.

Tina Spark is on the sidelines while Cloud Nyne feeds the young dragon. According to the books he has read, it will not start breathing fire until six months old, so it has a few months left yet. It won't start trying to fly for some time after that. Then again, the books also say that dragons are not able to be domestication or tamed.

Well, if his teacher couldn't do it, nobody could.

The young dragon was free of any and all bindings. Lau Min was activated – it would not get away no matter how hard it would try. Still, it was threatened by the Scientist that was observing it so closely.

"Chicken blood and brandy every half hour," The scientist murmurs, "What an odd diet."

"And a tiresome one," Cloud Nyne grumbles, motioning the man to move further back. The young dragon watches warily before digging into it's meal. "And if it isn't the one who's turning the Order into a Zoo..."

Harry smiles a little wryly, "Who, me? And here I've never been _that_ fond of animals."

"And yet the Order finds itself home to an owl, a cat, and a _dragon_ in the past year," Tina speaks up in amusement, "What'll it be next year? A unicorn? A sphinx?"

"Oh come on!" He puts his hands on his hips challengingly, "Hedwig and Ashes are harmless. The science division even _likes_ Ashes. And the dragon can at least be _useful_ in all it's dangerousness."

"That has yet to be decided," His teacher mirrors his pose, and unfortunately for him, will probably always do it better, "The best we can hope for is probably just to make sure it doesn't kill anyone and that it never breaks free. _If_ it stays. There's nothing for it to guard up here. We're on a _mountain_, Harry, and dragons are useless against akuma."

"True, very true. But what kind of big, foreboding, dark castle doesn't have a dragon?" He grins a little, exchanging a secret look with Tina, who absolutely loved the dragon, if also extremely cautious around it.

0

He has to turn down Draco's offer of visiting over the summer. He does briefly remember that wizards have faster transportation systems and that for all he knew, he might be able to visit for a day and be back the same day. Still, he decides not to bother with it, promising to meet up another time instead.

He is glad that both Draco and Hermione has excepted his apologies. Draco had surprisingly little to say on the matter, though Harry had expected far more. Hermione had been merely worried about the interference and his safety, which had unexpectedly warmed his chest in a pleasant way.

The fact that he even _has_ friends who want him to visit at all, unaware of his exorcist responsibilities, cheers him up far more than he things is a good thing.

0

He receives a letter from Dumbledore, talking about transportation this year. The Black Order has no magical transportation means, after all, and Harry cannot apparate, the apparently most common way of traveling for wizards. He had thought that he would go by train to wherever he needed to go, but the old Headmaster had a better plan.

There is a town that wasn't that far from the Order – close enough to be aware of it's frequently strange visitors and passerby's, but far enough that they aren't likely to stumble upon the tower very often. While there are stories about the tall, black tower atop a mountain, most of the inhabitants of the town had long sense stopped questioning the strange uniforms of the Finders or the Exorcist. Unknown to the civilians and the travelers, a good deal of the shop-owners and workers has Black Order connections. The train station in particular, which is how the exorcists usually rode for free.

Turns out, there is a very small magical section of the town. It's more for the magical travelers than anything else, but the magical portion of the shops are hidden, so that they can make a profit from the muggles as well. There is a pub called the Foggy Mirror Tavern that has rooms available for wizards and the like. They also have floo stations in the back, which is what Dumbledore is mainly pointing out.

Harry hasn't heard of 'Floo' before, but it's obviously a way to go somewhere quickly. He decides that he'll check it out before he goes to Diagon Alley for his supplies. If he deems it unsafe or for some reason dislikes it, he'll go by train like always.

0

He keeps the letter in his pocket, just in case. He references it once, to make sure that he has the name right.

The keeper is an older gentleman who doesn't have even one strange look to give Harry. A nice change, to be sure, though the first thing the man says is that they don't serve anything for youngsters like him other than water.

At the risk of looking like an idiot, Harry decides to be blunt.

"I was told that there are Floo stations here."

"Yes, there happens to be," The man raises an eyebrow and leans over the counter a bit, "You must be Potter, then, yes?"

"Dumbledore must have contacted you," Harry almost sighs, but he settles with rubbing his cheek instead.

"He did. Don't worry, secrets safe with me, though I do have to wonder why a boy such as yourself is all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. Then again, I suppose that might not be strange after all..."

He is clearly expecting some kind of explanation or hint as to why Harry is living out there, and probably even as to why he is alone, but he doesn't comply. The keeper lets it go friendly enough.

"'Suppose you do have to be rather secretive and all, bein' who you are," The man stood back straight, then made his way around the counter. "The names Owen. All our folk go through this door here. Elvira is usually the one around to serve you, let me introduce you."

There's a door that sits rather obscurely just beside a large, potted plant that helps bring life to the large room. He guesses that there is some kind of charm or the like to make sure muggles don't notice it, much like on the Leaky Cauldron. On the other side, the room is much brighter and more welcoming. It even seems warmer; a fair bit more classy than the previous room would have one expect. There are a small handful of patrons at the round tables. Interesting, since Harry didn't know there were _any_ wizards or the like anywhere near here.

Owen introduces him to Elvira, a tall and just the slight bit plump woman with dirty blond hair and an easy smile. She has just a little bit of an accent he can't place, but it adds a bit of whimsicality to her voice.

"And who's this cute young lad?" She asks with a welcoming smile. She sets down her tray, giving them her full attention.

"This here's mister Potter," Owen introduces them with a wave of his hand, "Potter, this is Elvira, my best worker. She's here most days, and I'm sure she'll be more than happy to help you with anything you need!"

"Certainly," She looks almost delighted, and he can't help wonder if she's just a really good actor, or if she really just likes her job, "Anything you need, dear, don't be afraid to ask."

"Anytime you visit, just head on back here and let her know what you need," The keeper gives a friendly smile, "First Floo trip is on me."

"Did you leave the front desk unattended again?" Elvira shakes her finger in chastisement, "You better get back to work. I'll take care of mister Potter, don't you worry."

"You make me wonder who's the boss sometimes," He winks at Harry, who fights not to stare at his feet in embarrassment, "Alright. Have a good day Mister Potter."

"You too," Harry coughs a little and glances around again, just to give his eyes something to do.

"Now then, the Floo he said? You in a hurry, or would you like to sit down and have a drink first? Nothing alcoholic, I promise you," She chuckles and picks up her empty tray again, handling it easily.

"Floo, please," He watches her quietly. She tsks at him.

"Young people always in a hurry. Don't worry, hun, I don't bite. But alright, right this way."

0

The explanation is short and rather hard to believe, really. Harry wants to ask 'what?' a second time, if only to make absolutely sure that this woman is telling him to stand in a fireplace and light himself on fire. She seems to take his disbelief in stride, admitting she'd demonstrate if she didn't have to get back to work. She adds that usually there's a relatively small fee attached to the service, but reminds him that Owen had made his first time on the house no matter how hard he tries to pay.

Still, she sticks around to watch him grab a handful of the Floo powder and situate himself in one of the three huge fireplaces.

"Just throw down the powder at your feet and say where you want to go. Make sure you say it _clearly_," She stressed that and he shifts uncomfortably. Was he really going to catch on fire? What if it hurt? What if something goes wrong? What if the building collapses on him and that's the glorious end he gets as both an exorcist and the Boy-Who-Lived?

That _would_ figure, he thinks. Killed by fireplace.

Nevertheless, he's positive as soon as the words leave his mouth that something _did_ go wrong.

0

He feels distinctly out of control as he sees fireplaces whiz by. He's extremely glad to have stopped, no matter where he's now ended up, when he slides hazardously out into a dusty shop.

He's immediately on his feet, holding in his coughing until his chest feels like it's about to burst. Nothing around him moves. Nobody pops out to yell at him or scream at his sudden appearance. In fact, there appears nothing around him at all except old, extremely dusty items.

After a few long moments, he clears his throat and careful tries to dust himself off. He can _feel_ it sticking to him. He's positive it's a useless endeavor even as he pats his shirt and pants down.

Then he carefully navigates the path, if it can be called that, towards what he can see is the front of the shop. He glances at several of the things around him as he goes; He spots what looks like an iron maiden, as well as a shriveled up old hand on a stand. None of it really interests him, so he beelines for the exit.

He's just opening the door when he runs into someone.

"Excuse me," The other says sharply. It sounds more like an insult than an actual apology, "Oh. What have we here?"

The man is tall and blond. He looks very proud, very... well, regal, almost. From behind him peaks a familiar face.

"Potter?" Draco exclaims, startled.

"Potter?" The man repeats curiously, "_The_ Harry Potter? Hmm. Whatever would young mister Potter be doing in a place like this? Dressed like...that?"

"First time using the Floo," Harry replies unhappily, "It... didn't go so well."

"Ah. I can see how one _might_ end up here in such an event," The man looks down his nose at him, "First time, you say? Well, however you ended up here, it is quite the fortuitous meeting then, isn't it? I have wanted to meet my son's new friend."

Draco's dad then, he thinks. Wonderful.

A wave of the others wand, however, and suddenly he is as clean as he had been before he'd even entered The Foggy Mirror. He looks down at himself, startled.

"Oh," He blinks rapidly, "I- Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. Why don't you boys wait just inside and then you may join us to attend to the school shopping?"

"Yes father," Draco agrees immediately. Harry just nods. So they moves inside and wait while the man goes to the front desk to call the owner and do his business.

0

Harry can already tell that Lucius Malfoy was of the high-bred type. Polite, mannerly... and possibly quite vicious as well. He feels like a politician. Like someone who knows how to get what he wants, and does so often.

He composes himself while waiting, in order to ready himself to meet this wizard more properly. He feels the need to make a... well, a better impression.

0

"So, Mister Potter," Lucius watches the younger boy neatly eat from his side of the table, "You've come on your own? No guardians? No security?"

"Yes," Harry answers honestly, knowing that this man is not one that he can easily fool, "My appearance isn't really widely known right now. Nobody really recognizes me unless they hear my name, and no one knows where I live. I'm generally at no more a danger than any other boy my age."

"That is still a danger for such a young boy. If no security, I would have thought your guardian would not be so free with your safety," Lucius glances towards Draco, who had thus far not butt into the conversation much at all. Usually, his son seemed to be inclined to complain or whine unless reprimanded, or to speak up in order to try and put himself forward, whether with boasting or otherwise. Now, he seems content to simply... watch. An interesting reaction.

"I am sure that I am being watched whether I'm aware of it or not," Harry shrugs a little, carefully remembering not to put his elbows on the table, "And I hear that Dumbledore has a unique way of tracking me. He seems able to find me whenever he pleases often enough."

"Ah. Yes. Dumbledore," The elder Malfoy held the slightest bit of sneer in his voice, "I'm sure he watches you quite closely."

"Annoyingly so."

"You do not get along with him?" He rose one elegant eyebrow.

"He is my Headmaster," Harry jabs at his food perhaps a little fiercer than it warranted, "He seems intent on... 'going above and beyond the call of duty', as they say."

"Hmm. He does have that tendency, doesn't he?" Lucius mused, leaning back a little in his chair.

0

Harry can see, very clearly, where Draco got his personality from. Although, Lucius seems to be a far more refined version; He is clearly more of a snake than Draco. Sneaky, slippery, quick of tongue and of wit. He wields power, that he could see even before he found out the man had such a high position in the Ministry. Draco was still more of a bully who leans on his families reputation, but while Lucius also leaned on that same reputation, he seemed inclined to do it less, and in a far less obvious way. On top of that, at least he actually added to why, exactly, the Malfoys are who they are. Draco has yet to be able to contribute anything.

He has thought, after initially meeting Draco, that he would be neither impressed, nor interested, by the eldest Malfoy. He also thought he would want nothing to do with such a man.

But despite any sneers that make an appearance, which was more often than Harry would like, it is not as torturous as he would have expected. The other has good tastes, as long as it doesn't pertain to blood purity, and seems able to answer any question Harry throws at him. A welcome change, since most adults would be far more fixated on his status, or at the least act condescendingly. Lucius is neither condensing nor annoying in his explanations. Is, in fact, informative in a rather pleasant way.

Even more so once he figures out why Harry is so clueless.

"Dumbledore _would_ place such a boy with _muggles_," There's that sneer again, he thinks, "It is no wonder you are oblivious. That should be rectified. As a friend of my sons, I would be more than willing to answer any questions you may have about the wizarding world, Mister Potter, whether in person or by owl."

0

In the book shop, there is an apparently famous wizard signing books. His name is Gilderoy Lockhart, and though Harry has never heard of the man before, he apparently has a lot of accomplishments. There are a fair number of wizards in the store; It's more crowded than Harry's ever seen it, though admittedly he hasn't been here that often.

Upon spotting him, however, Lockhart suddenly decides to make quite the fuss. He announces exactly who Harry is, which is really rather annoying since immediately the sizable crowd is gasping and cooing at him. He demands to have a photo taken with Harry.

To be honest, the older man talked and moved so fast, he doesn't even get the chance to extract himself. Next thing he knows, he's being dragged into the open space while Lockhart talks rapidly about fate bringing them together. Then he's a little dizzy as he gets quite the mountain of books shoved into his arms.

Harry can't help it. He's not in his exorcist uniform, which he thinks is actually good because in this part of the world, his fame cancels out the main reason people would approach him, making everyone an uncertain status. Even now, though, his palms itch under his gloves and he almost throws the books down to run right out of the story. It's Lucius Malfoy, ironically, who saves him.

"Careful, Lockhart, you're overwhelming the boy," He taps the top of the pile, and Harry is relieved when they shrink down to a portion of their size.

"Ah, yes yes, my apologies," Lockhart flashes what Harry assumes is suppose to be a dashing smile, "It must be quite overwhelming indeed to meet one such as I out of the blue like this! Worry not, boy, you'll be use to such things before you know it, if what I hear of you is true."

"Indeed," Lucius' tone is rather dry, even as he gets Harry to step back out from the spotlight, and Harry is never more grateful when Draco appears at his side, "Still. I'm sure he thanks you for such a... _generous_... gift. But we must run along."

"It is no problem, none at all!" The other flashes another smile, "Friends with the Malfoy's, are you, Harry? Good on you then. I expect that you-"

"Are in quite the rush, thank you," Lucius taps Draco's calf with his cane, who then takes Harry's should and turns him about to leave the store.

"Good day to you, Mister Potter!" Lockhart calls after them. Harry can see the flash of a few camera's behind him, and he's so close to bolting that he's not entirely sure that he hadn't leapt from the story when they're finally free and Draco gives him a strange look.

"We'll mail for your books, Draco," Lucius announces as the door shuts behind him, "It would be no use trying to get them with that fool inside."

"Of course, father," Draco glances towards Harry, which causes his fathers attention to turn.

"Unused to your fame yet, Mister Potter?" He asks. Harry swallows heavily.

"No, it's not that. I just... really, really don't like crowds."

"Is that so? Well. You'll have to have your books mailed as well, I imagine. Allow me to take care of it."

"I... I would appreciate it. I haven't done it before," He rubs his forehead and can't stop himself from glancing around a few times. "I thank you for allowing me to join you today. It was most enlightening and helpful, but I should be getting back soon."

0

Elvira is more than willing to get him a drink for him to mull things over before he has to begin the trek back to the castle. She sits him at a table away from most others, and thankfully nobody particularly pays attention to him.

"Long day?" She asks sympathetically as she sets his drink down in front of him.

"Something like that. More of just a big headache, really," He manages a quick smile,and is surprised when she sends a dazzling one back.

"That's the first time so far I've seen you smile!" She exclaims, "I knew I'd grow on you. Now let me know if you need anything. I have a headache potion if you have any need of it!"

0

A thought strikes him as he's sitting there.

He's never met an akuma based off of a witch or wizard. Not that he's aware of, anyway. Everyone has always been 'normal' muggles. Usually from the smaller towns or villages, but occasionally there will be a few in a city. None of them showed any signs of being from a magical community.

Was that a coincidence? Wouldn't the Order have been more aware of the magical community if they had to commute around the wizarding world to hunt down akuma? Deal with the Ministry? _Infiltrate_ the Ministry, the same way they had any other government? If every single akuma were made only from muggles, did that hint that maybe those with magical talents _couldn't_ be made into akuma? There had to be a reason the Earl was skipping them.

0

Lucius, likewise, muses about his day after dinner, sitting before his fire in his study.

He had had several ideas of what the boy would be like. Thankfully, he appeared not to be an reckless idiot, if only showed that he never commented about Lucius' disdain for muggles and refused to put forth his own opinion on the issue, no matter how much Lucius brought it up or hinted at wanting to know. He's not sure the boy caught the hinting, but at the least he had been smart enough to keep his mouth shut instead of angrily arguing like most Gryffindors.

Even better, he was not, as Lucius had greatly feared, overly corrupted by the fool, Dumbledore. Didn't even seem to have any lost love for the old man.

The boy was quite. Polite, mannerly. Perhaps he wouldn't know, for example, the full set of silverware that a noble family like Malfoy uses, but already he's a far cry from most muggle-raised. He was also quite mature, it seemed,and he was genuinely interested in the wizarding world and how it worked. He had even listened attentively while Lucius explained his job and what it entailed. Something not many children at that age would do. Something not even a fair amount of adults would be interested in.

His lack of security was interesting, and perhaps troubling. He was the Boy-Who-Lived; who but the Minister warrented more security than that boy? There is still those who would harm him. People like himself, perhaps, Death Eaters who would avenge the fall of their Lord. Lucius himself could have taken the boy and nobody would know. Not even Draco. Yet he was alone? What idiot was in charge of that?

The fear of crowds was something unexpected. It hadn't seemed to be one of those sudden, irrational fears that drove people to do stupid things. The boys was not, perhaps, the _most_ controlled, judging be the slightly wild look in his eye and the sprint out the last few steps of the store, but it hadn't been sudden. Lucius had seen the mounting alarm; and that was just it. He had seen alarm, rather than the horrible fear most phobias induced. Such a reaction was off of an actual experience, he would bet.

Regardless. The boy was definitely interesting. He had clearly not been coddled and babied his entire life, like he had thought likely.

0

"The pictures are _moving_," Lavi stares at the book in awe.

"You've already seen one of those," Harry rolls his eyes, "I gave you a newspaper last year, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Lavi turns the book around in all sorts of ways as if looking for its secret, "Jeeze, I still just don't get it. How does it _do_ that?"

"Magic," Kanda replies dryly, snapping his chopsticks at Hedwig who had ventured too close to his food. The owl puffed up and seemingly pouted at the swordsman.

"A book about famous wizarding duels," Lavi flipped through the pages rapidly, pausing on a few of the moving pictures, "It's like fairy tales come to life."

"Isn't that basically exactly what it is?" Harry fed Hedwig a cracker halfheartedly, "I really didn't know what else to look for, but I wanted to get you something since there were so many books. And a lot of them were, you know, spell books, so..."

"So, useless to me," Lavi nodded, "Thank you. You can find out a lot more from a book like this than you'd expect. I appreciate the thought."

Harry nodded perhaps a little shyly.

"Wait until I try a few moves out on the old panda, he'll never know what hit him. It'll be like... _magic_," Lavi added with a wink, wrestling a chuckle from Harry.

"I've yet to find a self-cleaning sword kit," The young wizard teased Kanda, "But I'll keep an eye out."

0

"What house do you think I'd be in?" Lenalee asks curiously as she picks at her skirt on the sidelines. At first, Harry is completely confused as to what she's referring to. He ducks Kanda's wooden sword and replies in the middle of a spinning high kick,

"You mean in Hogwarts?"

She lets out a noise of affirmation. He hums in thought as he almost trips over a cleverly placed foot in his way, rolling back to his feet and barely dodging a stabbing move.

"I'm not sure. I bet it'd be either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff though," He finally answers.

"You're in Gryffindor, right?" She smiles a little, "It'd be nice if we were in the same house, if I could go. What are they known for?"

Harry tells her a little about both of those houses. It's easy to distance his voice from his movements, though it gets choppy sometimes with his sudden dodges or the like.

"What do you like Lavi and Kanda would be?" She asks in amusement. Harry glimpses the smallest of scowls on Kanda's face, so he plays along.

"Lavi would probably be Ravenclaw, I bet. Maybe Gryffindor. Or maybe Slytherin, even, it's kind of hard to tell with him," He pauses in thought, eyeing his opponent warily when the blow he'd blocked with his forearm ached with the force, "Kanda... Hmm. Slytherin. Or... Slytherin. I can't see him in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Maybe Gryffindor if the Sorting Hat was in a really, really good mood."

The swipe he ducks next sounds like it would have been particularly painful, had it connected. He laughs a little, adding,

"Kanda would have to be the meanest looking Hufflepuff I'd ever meet, I bet! He'd scare away all the other ones!"

Next thing he knows, he is on his back looking up the length of the long wooden sword.

"If it keeps idiots like you away, it'd be worth it," Kanda sneers.

"I was joking!" Harry defends.

"No you weren't," Lenalee giggles, standing to take Harry's place.

"Okay, I wasn't," Harry admits, "But you're not suppose to say that out loud."

"Especially not when I have a sword to your throat," Kanda snaps, stabbing at Harry's shoulder if only because he knows better than to stab at such a vital area.

"What are friends for?"

"Get off the sparring floor," He only rolls his eyes and nudges the boy with his foot before he moves backwards to make more room for Lenalee.

0

The end of his summer break comes far too quickly for Harry. And yet he's strangely excited nonetheless. His books have long since arrived, attached to a small note in elegant handwriting. Lucius sends his regards and reminds Harry of the promise of knowledge, should he only ask a question. Something Harry appreciates, even if he's sure it was an offer made more because of his status than out of the kindness of Lucius' heart.

Cloud Nyne makes him promise to continue practicing. She wants to find a better way for him to do so, some better way for him to learn. She promises to look into it while he's away.

Harry is sad to part with his friends once more, but still reluctantly eager to go back to Hogwarts. A small part of him admits that he looks forward to seeing Hermione and Draco once more,and to have those hours of the day where he can do whatever he likes without worrying about anything at all.

It doesn't take him long to pack. Dobby has a hand in helping, though he seems torn the entire time. He tries one last time, in vain, to convince Harry of the danger. Then resigns himself to assisting the packing.

Harry, anxious as he was, says farewell to the Order once again with the promise that he'd be back soon.


End file.
